Returning to Hogwarts
by abro5
Summary: Three years after the War, Hermione has moved into her own cottage and is preparing to go back to Hogwarts to teach Transfiguration. Little did she know that a certain Slytherin was also returning...
1. Chapter 1

**Hello, again! Just to say, _I don't own anything - all J.K Rowling's._ Oh yeah, I also changed my username - I was MCR70 but now I'm abro5 (as you can see, haha). Err, this chapter is shorter than what the rest will be and the updates may be a little slow as I have exams starting this week and going on to the 16th of June. :( So I'll be revising but writing at the same time (hopefully!). So, yeah, and thanks to my wonderful beta _GiantInflatableWalrus_! **

Returning to Hogwarts

_Prologue_

Hermione gazed at the man beside her, a small smile playing on her lips as she watched him snore peacefully in the wicker chair. She glanced down at their entwined, wrinkled hands and sighed contentedly. Looking out across the garden from her chair on the veranda, three young children were playing with a hose in the July sun and she wistfully remembered the long-gone years when she used to do the same. A tall, brunette woman carrying a tray laden with glasses of fresh lemonade stepped out onto the veranda, and smiled gently at her before continuing down onto the grass towards the children.

Hermione closed her eyes and listened to the children's squeals of joy as her mind wandered back to when she first bought this house.

* * *

><p><em>Chapter 1<em>

Hermione's hand wiped the sweat off her brow as she placed the second-to-last box down in the hallway of her new cottage. She could feel a dull ache beginning in her lower back and cursed the job of unpacking which awaited her after she had all the boxes inside. She traipsed back outside for the last box from her car and screamed angrily when her clammy hands let the box slip from her grasp and crash onto the concrete below.

"Stupid piece of junk!" She yelled at the box, kicking her car tyre. She was tired, her back ached, it was hot and all she wanted was to lie down and go to sleep. She'd been up since five in the morning, making sure everything was packed away and ready, before driving to her new house on the outskirts of Oxford with the removal van following. Once they had completed their job, they disappeared and Hermione was left alone in the sticky June air to carry fifteen boxes into the house. Why she didn't use magic she didn't know, but the muggle part of her wanted to do this the proper way, and for her, the proper way was without magic.

She blew her hair out of her face and bent down to pick the box up, wincing as her back throbbed. She straightened up and was about to struggle up the narrow stone path when a voice called out, offering some help.

"You okay there? Want me to help with anything?"

It was a man's voice and there was something unsettling about its familiarity. She turned around and almost dropped the box again in surprise. She grimaced as pain shot down her back. "Ah, Malfoy … er, no thanks. This is the last box – I can cope." She twisted round again and took one step before tripping on an uneven slab and falling straight onto her knees, the box flying out in front of her. She cried out in pain and heard Malfoy rush towards her, bending down to help her up.

"You can cope?" He asked, trying to hide the smirk which was working its way to the surface.

She only growled in response as he took her arm to help her hobble into the house and onto a sofa. He brought out his wand and transfigured one of the cushions into an ice pack, which he pressed against Hermione's knees gently. "There you go. I'll get the box for you." He left Hermione's side and went back out through the front door, Hermione staring at his back with a mixture of emotions.

_What on earth was that?_ She thought, switching hands with the ice pack before it went numb. _He's being so kind, so nice. Where's the name-calling, arrogant ferret from school gone? _Before she could carry on musing, he came back in with the box and set it on top of another one. He glanced at her and smiled. A genuine smile – not a hint of a sneer.

"Can I sit?" He pointed next to her to which she shrugged as she shuffled along the seat. "Thanks."  
>"Do you live near here?" Hermione asked abruptly, staring at him with her eyes narrowing.<p>

"Yep, just down the road. You must have driven past it – it's not hard to miss." Malfoy added with a chuckle.

"Oh," She replied quietly. Yes, she had seen his house. There was a drive lined with trees leading down to a beautiful stone cottage, except it couldn't really be called a cottage as it was probably four times the size of Hermione's. "I only caught a glimpse but it looked lovely."

"Thanks. You've got a nice little place here too." He glanced around her small living room; they were facing the window which looked out onto the front garden – little rose bushes and poppies lined the pathway and around behind the front garden wall. The grass was neatly mown and daisies were beginning to grow. Next to them, beside the doorway, was a rustic fireplace with an armchair sat in the corner with a space that, Draco assumed, Hermione would fill with a bookcase of some sort.

Hermione mumbled her thanks and tried to stand up. A spasm of pain soon had her sitting back down on the sofa again. She scowled and brought out her wand and pointed it at her knees. "_Episkey,_" she murmured. Immediately, the throbbing went and she beamed at her wand before standing up. "Thanks for your help, Malfoy."

"No problem. You sure you don't want any help?" He stood up, looking impressed at her skills. Why didn't he think of that? She shook her head. "Okay, I'll see you around, Granger."

Hermione watched him stroll down the garden path and close the green, wooden gate behind him. She was completely confused. Since Voldemort's defeat three years ago, Hermione had barely seen any of her school friends other than Harry, Ron, Ginny and Neville. It was odd seeing a twenty year old Draco Malfoy behaving so pleasantly when the last time she saw him he was fighting for the Dark Lord. However, a part of her did think that perhaps he had never wanted to be a part of it anyway, and she never forgot the day when Harry told her that Narcissa had saved his life. She shook her head and dismissed all thoughts concerning Malfoy - she had unpacking to do.

* * *

><p>Three hours later, Hermione checked her watch. It was five to six and her stomach growled noisily. So far, she had sorted out the whole of her kitchen and was halfway through her living room. She manoeuvred her way through numerous piles of books and went into her galley kitchen when she suddenly realised she didn't have any food. "Oh, good one, Hermione." She said aloud to herself. She thought for a moment before going back into the living room and flooing Ginny.<p>

"Gin?" She called out after she came into view of Grimmauld place. Harry had married Ginny last year in a beautiful ceremony at the Weasley's and now they lived in Harry's godfather's old home.

"Hermione!" Ginny appeared in the kitchen doorway and fell to her knees in front of the fireplace, beaming. "How was it today? Sorry, again, for not being able to help – it was the semi-finals of the Quidditch today!"

Hermione shook her head and laughed, "Honestly, Ginny, it's fine – you can't skip a day of work just to help me move house. How was it anyway? Did you win?"

"Yes! We totally thrashed the Cannons … Ron wasn't too happy." Ginny giggled. "So, what's up?"

"Er, well," Hermione blushed. "I forgot to buy food today and … and-"

"-you want to eat with us?" Ginny finished for her. "Of course, you know you're always welcome! Come over now!"

Hermione pulled her head out and grabbed some more powder before travelling to the Potter's. When she stepped out of the fireplace, Ginny gave her a tight hug before beginning to start on the supper. "So, tell me about your day? How'd it go?"

"It was fine, the builders buggered off though as soon as they could. But then you wouldn't believe what happened earlier." Hermione folded her arms at Ginny's raised eyebrows.

"What?"

"Malfoy. Malfoy lives not two minutes down the road, and when he … er, saw me fall, he helped and gave me an ice pack, not before offering to carry boxes! Unbelievable!" Hermione took the knife and the onions which Ginny handed her and she began to chop whilst her friend stared at her in disbelief.

"Are you serious? That's crazy! Who'd have thought _Malfoy_ helping a member of the Golden Trio?" Ginny shook her head and stirred the pasta that was beginning to boil. "Then what happened?"

"Not much," she admitted. "I said thanks and he left. Then I unpacked, realised I had no food, and here I am."

"Eventful afternoon," Ginny wriggled her eyebrows at Hermione who scoffed.

"_Please_ tell me you're not insinuating what I think you are."

"And what would that be, Hermione?" Ginny smirked.

Hermione stopped chopping and pointed the knife at Ginny playfully. "You cannot be serious – I've seen him once in three years for about ten minutes!"

"Well, what did he look like? I always thought he was a little good-looking, no matter how much of a prat he was." Ginny blushed and grinned sheepishly.

Hermione stared amused by her friend's question. "I have to say, he did look rather nice. His hair's much better, more … floppy. And his dress sense is still impeccable, as much as I hate to admit."

Harry suddenly appeared in the doorway, a playful but suspicious look on his face. "Who are you talking about, eh?" He snuck up behind Ginny and slipped his hands around her waist. "Good evening, beautiful. Hey, Hermione."

"Hello, hope you don't mind me intruding this evening – I have no food." Hermione gave Harry a peck on the cheek in greeting and avoided his first question hurriedly.

"No problem! What's for dinner?" He peered over Ginny's shoulder at the bubbling pasta and watched as Ginny stirred the mince with her wand.

"Spaghetti bolognaise – your favourite." She turned around in his arms and embraced him properly. "How was work? Was the call really that important that you had to work on a Sunday?"

He pecked Ginny on the nose in a silent apology. "Good; Ron and I managed to successfully uncover some dark objects in an ex-death eater's humble abode." He snorted and moved his glasses back up his nose.

"Ooh, who?" Ginny asked excitedly.

"I am afraid I am not allowed to disclose that information, even to my wife." Harry shrugged his shoulders and smiled. "Would you like any help?"

The trio cooked the rest of the pasta dish and sat down to eat. Every time Hermione sat in this kitchen, it brought back memories of when they were in fifth year, trying to eavesdrop on the conversations the order were having about Voldemort. She couldn't get over the feeling of relief that filled her when she reminded herself that he was gone – their job was done and everyone could live their lives in peace.

"So, Hermione, excited about your new job?" Harry nodded his thanks to Ginny as she cleared up the plates.

"Yes! I was so surprised when McGonagall asked me to replace her for Transfiguration!" She gushed happily. "But during the clean-up after the war, there was such an overwhelming desire in me to teach – it was so weird!"

"Yeah, no offence, I always thought you were going to be a Healer or some sort of person campaigning for elves' rights in the Ministry." Harry snickered. "But it sounds great for you."

"Do you know who's filled the post for Defence Against the Dark Arts?" Ginny asked curiously. "I expect that curse thing has broken now that Voldemort's dead."

"I have no idea, sorry, Gin." Hermione shook her head and stretched as she stood up from the table. "Thanks, both of you, for having me. Sorry that it was really unexpected." Hermione hugged Ginny and headed over to the fireplace. "Are you seeing Ron soon?"

"Yeah, I'll see him at work tomorrow. Why?" Harry joined Hermione at the floo and gave her a squeeze in farewell.

"Just to tell him 'hi'." Hermione smiled before waving and disappearing into the flames.


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter 2_

Hermione spent the next week or so finishing off her unpacking and decorating various rooms in the house. The living room was originally very dark, with crimson walls and walnut trimming. She opted for a cream colour for the walls which had a nice contrast with the wood – it made the room much brighter and when her parents came for a brief visit, they praised her on the beautiful job she had done on the house.

It was now the middle of June, and Hermione had just been painting the veranda a light brown. She sat down lazily on the bench swing – a gift from her parents – and stroked Crookshanks between the ears as she bathed in the afternoon sun. She was just drifting off into a light snooze when a handsome tawny owl came swooping down and held out its leg to Hermione. Crookshanks hissed menacingly at the bird but it only ruffled its feathers haughtily in return, not fazed by the large ginger fur ball.

"I wonder who you belong to, handsome," Hermione murmured to the owl, taking the letter and opening it carefully. The content of the letter destroyed her dreamy and relaxed state, and she made Crookshanks run off into the bushes as she stood from the swing abruptly. Running into the house, Hermione cast the letter aside onto the kitchen table and hurried to the fireplace.

"Grimmauld Place!" she yelled, and her head span as it travelled to where the Potters resided.

Ginny was sitting calmly at the table writing a letter to her mother when Hermione's panicked voice broke the silence.

"Ginny, please come over right now. I have to show you something," she begged, her voice sounding strangled. "I have no idea what to do!"

"Okay, I'll be there now!" Hermione cut the connection and got to her feet, returning to the kitchen to fetch the letter in order to show Ginny. She was utterly confused.

Ginny arrived in no less than ten seconds and she took the letter from Hermione's outstretched hand. She read it aloud.

_Miss H. Granger,_

_I am inviting you to attend my annual Summer Ball held on the 27__th__ July at my home. It will begin at four o'clock in the afternoon, and finish at two. Formal attire is to be expected, and you may bring a partner if you wish._

_I eagerly await your reply,_

_D. Malfoy._

"Is this it?" Ginny asked, looking slightly disappointed.

"What do you mean, _is this it_?" Hermione snatched the letter back and stared at Ginny affronted.

"Well, it's not that big a deal. I thought the answer would be quite obvious." Ginny shrugged and sat down on a kitchen chair. "Go."

Hermione's mouth opened and closed like a goldfish and she spluttered, shaking the letter in her hand. "Wh…Gin, no, _why_?"

"Why not? It'll be fun and you can get to know him better." Ginny smirked.

"What are you trying to say? Look, I know he was nice to me last week and everything, but that doesn't mean he's suddenly Mr. Nice Guy."

"How do you know? This could be him trying to start over, y'know, get back in everyone's good books." Ginny pointed out, and summoned some parchment and a quill with her wand. "Here, say you're going."

"Now that's just crazy. I only just got the letter – how eager would I look then?" Hermione pushed away the parchment and glared at it sullenly.

"So, you're going to go?" Ginny raised her eyebrows and flicked it back over again. "Chop, chop, he hasn't got all day."

"Gin, I'm serious, I can't do this." Hermione sighed and looked imploringly at her friend. "It'll be so weird and I have nothing to wear and have no one to go with."  
>"Hermione, you can. And we can go shopping or you could borrow one of my dresses, it's not a problem." Ginny picked up the quill. "I'll write it for you."<p>

"No!" Hermione reached out and took the parchment before Ginny could write. "I'll do it." She added quietly after a hesitation. She began to write slowly, unsure of what she was about to commit to.

"Well done, Hermione, you'll have a great time. Why don't you ask Ron to go?" Ginny suggested, beaming.

Hermione snorted and finished the letter. "Yeah, Ron won't go in a ten mile radius of him. I don't think I'll take anyone, actually." She added as an afterthought.

Ginny fell silent and pursed her lips before asking tentatively. "What happened … between you and Ron?"

"It just wasn't working, Gin. We both drove each other up the wall and everyone expected us to be together, so we did but I just knew it wasn't going to work for long." Hermione sighed and shook her head, folding up the reply to the letter.

"I think he may still have feelings for you, though."

"I doubt that, he was the one who initiated the break-up conversation." Hermione replied with absolute certainty. "Do you have an owl I could borrow to send this?"

Ginny nodded and stood up, accepting the change of subject. "I'll send it off for you if you want." She went back into the living room to stand by the fireplace.

"Ah, thanks, that'd be great if you could." Hermione hugged Ginny tightly. "Sorry for being stressy earlier, I just didn't know what to do."

"Its fine," Ginny laughed. "We have to organise a shopping trip too – got to get you a dress for the ball!"

Hermione groaned and shoved Ginny away. "You choose where to go, I have no idea."

"Ooh, thanks, Hermione!" Ginny beamed and took some floo powder. "I'll contact you soon! Bye!"

Hermione watched her friend disappear before collapsing onto the sofa tiredly. What on earth had she just agreed to? She checked her watch and noticed it was almost time for dinner. Forcing herself to her feet, she went into the kitchen and began to prepare some food.

A few minutes later, there was a tap on the window and Malfoy's owl had returned. _That was quick_, she thought, slightly impressed. She opened it and the owl fluttered onto the sill, once again holding out its foot. Hermione's fingers were fumbling as she tried to untie and open the letter, and she wondered why she was so nervous all of a sudden. She read the letter twice before exhaling and feeding the owl a treat before sending it back to its owner.

_Hermione, _

_Absolutely delighted that you can come. See you then!_

She stared warily at the letter for a moment, before turning back and making her food. A part of her admitted that she did secretly want to go, but another part was reluctant to go near that man again. She wondered what he had been up to for the past three years. Had he really changed like Ginny suggested he had? What had become of his parents? Hermione remembered hearing, not long after the war had ended, that Lucius Malfoy was to serve only a short sentence of about six months in Azkaban for his involvement with the Dark Lord. Harry had protected Narcissa from suffering the same end, by explaining that she had – in a way – saved his life by lying for him. She expected that Draco Malfoy probably had some unearthed respect and gratitude for Harry, and maybe, just maybe, that was shining through when he helped her the other day. Perhaps he felt that this was repaying the favour.

_If so, why hasn't he invited Harry to the Ball?_ Hermione frowned as she finished cooking her scrambled eggs and shook them from the pan and onto her toast. As she sat down, the cogs in her head were still whirring. Something Ginny had said made her think too. Did Ron still actually like her? Her best friend seemed genuinely serious when she had muttered the confession, and Hermione didn't know what to do. Of course, she didn't know for certain that it was true, so confronting Ron was out of the question. She would see how things panned out. Besides, she was off to Hogwarts in September – he had the whole summer to gather his Gryffindor courage and admit whether he liked her or not. But if he did, what would she do? Getting back together, Hermione knew, would be wrong, oh so wrong since it completely failed the first time. However, she would feel awful if she turned him down. But was it better to just be honest than to lead him on.

Hermione groaned and let her head fall into her hands. Her brain was about to explode with all her thoughts buzzing around.

Too lazy to get up, Hermione waved her wand and cleaned the dishes before going into her bathroom to get ready for bed. She was feeling tired and felt like snuggling under the covers to read a book. She stared at her reflection in the mirror before brushing her teeth and undressing – tired, brown eyes gazed back at her framed by thick lashes. Her hair was still fairly bushy like her school days, but slightly more controlled; the honey coloured waves falling just past her shoulders. She noticed a bit of paint from earlier hiding under her chin, and rubbed furiously at it with the flannel before washing and jumping into bed.

* * *

><p>The next couple of weeks or so seemed to fly by as her friends came and went to visit the new cottage. When Ron finally came over, Ginny's statement popped back into her head and she found herself analysing Ron's body language and speech. She tried to dismiss the thought of his attraction towards her, but every time he grinned or laughed at whatever she said, she wondered if it was because he liked her. <em>For goodness sake, Hermione, stop acting like a little girl. He's allowed to smile at you – he's your best friend! <em>She had thought angrily to herself as she had said goodbye to him.

Now, as Hermione showered and got dressed, her stomach lurched with a mix of excitement and anxiety – today was the day she was to go dress shopping. Her red-headed friend had owled her the previous week saying she had found a little shop in Diagon Alley, perfect for occasions like the Summer Ball.

She threw on some casual clothes and checked her watch before apparating to the Leaky Cauldron where she was to meet Ginny. She arrived in the stuffy Inn, despite it being ten o'clock in the morning, and greeted Tom cheerfully. She spotted Ginny hovering by the back door, avoiding eye contact with an already drunk man in the corner.

"Gin!" Hermione, hurried over with a smile and they both went through the back door. Hermione tapped the brick and Diagon Alley revealed itself to them once more. "So, where's this place then?"

"It's near the entrance to Knockturn Alley, which is a little alarming, but it's a cute little shop!" Ginny amended quickly, seeing the look of horror across Hermione's face.

"Right, okay, good." Hermione breathed a silent sigh of relief as they wandered through the busy, cobbled street. "I've got some shopping to do, actually. Would you mind if we did that after we get the dress?"

"Yeah, sure, I do too. We could go for a coffee somewhere too – maybe Florean Fortescue's?" suggested Ginny as an afterthought.

"Yep, sounds great. Oh, is this it?" Hermione had stopped outside a pale blue fronted shop, with _Rose Evening Wear_ stamped across the top in gold letters. The shop window had two long evening gowns and white roses adorned the window sill.

"Yep, Fleur actually recommended this place to me. I think it's her best friend's sister who owns the place or something." Ginny pushed open the door and they entered into a bright, airy shop floor with racks upon racks of expensive clothing.

"Gin, I don't know how I'm going to afford this," Hermione muttered, checking the price of a jet black ball gown and blanching.

"Don't worry, we'll try and get mate's rates." She assured her with a chuckle. "If not, I'll lend you some money. We want you to look gorgeous on the 27th."

Hermione frowned. "That's not fair. Oh my goodness!" She suddenly squeaked out, clamping a hand to her mouth. "That's in two weeks! How's the time passed so quickly?"

Ginny shrugged and turned to the assistant who had approached them with a smile.

"Hello, what can I do for you?"

"Hi," Ginny said confidently. "Hermione here is going to a Summer Ball in two weeks and we're looking for a dress."

"Ah, of course, we've just had some stock in. Is there anything specific you were looking for?" The young, blond assistant turned her permanent smile to Hermione.

"Er, I'd like something fitted and flowing, y'know, like silk." Hermione replied with much less confidence than Ginny. She barely did this sort of thing and had no idea what she was looking for.

"Okay, we have some dresses over here…"

The next couple of hours were a drag to Hermione; Ginny picked up dress after dress for her to try on, and none of them were perfect in Ginny's opinion.

"How about this one?" Hermione stepped out of the changing cubicle for the sixth time and gave Ginny a quick twirl.

"Nope." Ginny pushed her back in straight away, with not so much as a glance at the dress. She turned around to face the assistant who was looking tired. "Do you have anything teal coloured? I think that colour would look gorgeous on Hermione."

"Let me see," the assistant hurried off and returned a couple of minutes later with a shimmering dress. "This literally came in earlier this morning – we haven't had time to put it on display yet."

"Sounds perfect," Ginny took the dress from the assistant excitedly and passed it to Hermione through the gap in the curtain.

"Ooh, I like the feel of this one," Hermione cooed from inside. She wriggled out of the crimson dress she had on, and felt the silk material as it slipped through her hands like water. It glided over her head easily and she let it fall to the ground, a little train stretching out behind her. "I like this a lot, Gin."

Ginny's head poked through the gap and gasped happily at her best friend's reflection. "You look _hot_."

The teal coloured dress was simple. It was, as Hermione wanted, fitted but flowing with a plunging back which came down to her waist. The halter-neck created a pretty neckline and the dress fit her beautifully.

"How much is it?" Hermione dared to ask, preparing to cringe as Ginny fumbled with the price tag.

"It's not on there…" she disappeared for a moment and then the shop assistant's head materialised.

"It's 95 galleons. Sorry, we hadn't priced it yet." She eyed Hermione up and down. "It looks great on you by the way."

Hermione tried to work it out in her head. She had quite a lot in her bank, but 95 galleons worked out to be about…£410. That was a lot for a dress. Hermione sighed. Was it worth it?

"You never splash out on yourself – this is the time to do it." Ginny tried to persuade her from outside the cubicle.

"Gin, I don't know …" Hermione wailed.

"Hermione Granger, buy that dress right now. If you have the money, obviously." She added, laughing quietly to herself.

"Wait, you're Hermione Granger?" the assistant asked, her eyes widening. "Goodness gracious, if I had known … oh _do_ forgive me for being so ignorant! You can have the dress for half the price!"

Hermione opened the curtain to face the assistant, bemused. "Look, it really doesn't matter-"

"No, no, I insist. You'll have it for half the price. In fact, I'll sell it to you for forty. Forty galleons!" The assistant babbled, scurrying around waving her wand to clear up the mess of dresses. "Forty galleons it shall be! Oh, dear me, Hermione Granger in my dressing room and I didn't even notice!"

Ginny was stifling her laughter as Hermione turned back around to undress. Well, being famous did have its perks.

* * *

><p>"Do you want to come round for dinner tonight, Hermione?" Ginny offered as they wandered back to the Leaky Cauldron. After purchasing the dress for a wonderful forty galleons, Hermione and Ginny spent the rest of the day traipsing around Diagon Alley for things they wanted. They recognised some familiar faces from their Hogwarts days, and when they sat down at Florean Fortescue's for lunch, Lavender and best friend Parvati sat right down beside them on the next table. They had a good catch up and had arranged to meet up before Hermione went off to Hogwarts in the September.<p>

"Oh, yes, Gin, that'd be lovely – thank you." Hermione smiled tiredly and yawned. "I'm shattered!"  
>"Me too, it's been a long day." She checked her watch. "Oh my word, it's almost five o'clock! Better get back quickly to start cooking."<p>

They quickened their pace and took the floo from the Leaky Cauldron, straight back to the Potter's house.

"Ah, I was wondering where you'd got to! I was going to suggest having a cheeky – Oh, hi Hermione!" Harry said quickly, his cheeks glowing gloriously as Hermione smirked at him knowingly.

"Yeah, tell me later, hon." Ginny rolled her eyes at her husband. "Hey, why don't you invite Ron over for dinner too?"  
>"Yep, I'll do that right away, be back in a minute!" Harry squeaked and rushed out of the room, still embarrassed.<p>

"Ah, that'll be nice to have Ron here as well," Hermione beamed and set down her bags before helping Ginny prepare the meal.

Ginny nodded, washing her hands. "And it'll also be a good time to tell them where you're going on the 27th of July."

Hermione sighed and inwardly cringed. Ginny was right; she had to tell the boys soon. She couldn't hide this from them, and it wasn't such a big deal anyway. She could just mention it casually, slip it into the conversation. The thought suddenly made her stomach lurch, and she pulled a face.

"What? You know you have to. Harry will be fine about it, don't worry." She added breezily.

"Yeah, but what about Ron?" Hermione questioned weakly. "He's not going to be pleased."

Ginny turned to face her, a long, sharp knife in her hand. "Hermione Granger, you are a grown woman. You are twenty one years of age – you can make your own decisions without running them by Ron first. If he doesn't like it, well, he'll have to grin and bear it." She pointed the implement at Hermione's face before beginning to chop up some salad.

"Right, whatever, I'll tell them at dinner."

"Tell us what?" Harry came back into the kitchen followed by the gangly, red-headed Ron.

"Never you mind!" Hermione replied too sharply and her male friends recoiled at her tone. "How do you know it's even about you?" She asked, wriggling her eyebrows playfully, trying to make up for the previous harshness.

"Because we're the only ones having dinner with you, silly!" Ron strolled over to Hermione and enveloped her into a great hug, and she inhaled the familiar smell of her best friend.

"Oh _fine_. But I'm still only telling you when we eat." Hermione smiled sweetly up at him. "Wow, I swear I haven't seen you for ages!"  
>Ron chuckled and released her from his grasp. "I saw you last week, Hermione, it wasn't that long ago. Aww, are you developing a soft spot for me?" He added teasingly, pouting his lips.<p>

"Oh shut up," Hermione reddened, "You know I'll always have a soft spot for you."

Ron grinned at her. "Good."

They made dinner quickly and all sat down to eat with a glass of wine. Everything was going smoothly, and Hermione hoped that Ron and Harry had forgotten her earlier promise. But, alas, they had not.

"So, Hermione, what did you want to tell us?" Harry asked, leaning forward and staring at her expectantly.

Three pairs of eyes swivelled round to face her and Hermione glanced at Ginny, begging for help. She just shrugged in return and went back to her food.

"Fine." Hermione took a breath. "Basically, Draco Malfoy has invited me to his Summer Ball … and, I'm going."

There was silence.

"Is that it?" Ron asked, frowning. "I thought you were going to announce that you were pregnant or something."

"Oh, well, I …" Hermione faltered. "I didn't realise you'd both take it so well. I was expecting an onslaught of questions as to why I was going."

Harry shrugged. "It doesn't matter. Have fun, Hermione. When is it?"

"27th of July – two weeks today." Hermione replied, still in a state of shock.

"Do you want one of us to come with you?" Ron asked, puffing his chest forward. Hermione almost laughed.

"No thanks, Ron, I'll be fine." She smiled, pleased at the way they had responded. Maybe it wasn't going to be so bad after all.


	3. Chapter 3

**_Disclaimer - I don't own anything! All J.K Rowlings!_**

_Chapter 3_

Hermione woke up on the 27th of July with a mixture of apprehension and delight. She lay in bed for ten minutes going over all the things she had to do that day. First, there was the vital trip to Diagon Alley to get some Sleekeazy after discovering she had none left in her bathroom. Whilst she was there, she thought about getting some kind of jewellery to go with her outfit. Then there was the issue of buying Harry a birthday present. She was shocked at herself – she was usually better prepared than this.

Her head was still reeling from a surprise visit a few days ago. She hadn't been expecting any visitors, and so it came as a huge shock to her when Draco Malfoy was standing on her doorstep, smiling hesitantly. "Sorry to drop by like this," he had said apologetically, "but I just wanted to double check that you were still coming on Saturday."

Hermione had dropped the tea towel she was holding when she saw him, and had hurriedly picked it up, nodding. "Yes, yes, I'll be there." She had said, blushing at her own clumsiness.

It had been quite a cringe-worthy moment as he hung awkwardly around for about ten seconds before saying goodbye. When Hermione had told Ginny what happened, she scolded her for not inviting him in.

"He obviously wanted to have a nice conversation with you, Hermione. You should have let him in!" She had shaken her head and clucked her tongue exactly like her mother would have done.

As Hermione got up and showered, she wondered why she had been so nervous and embarrassed in his presence. Yeah, she had to admit he did look _fairly_ attractive, but she didn't usually go all flustered around good looking men. _Hopefully I'll be able to have a sane conversation with him this evening_, she thought to herself as she stepped out of the shower. Ginny had offered the previous day to come over at two o'clock to help her get ready, and her expression was such that Hermione didn't have the guts to turn her down, though she was perfectly capable of getting ready on her own.

She had breakfast and got dressed before checking her watch. Satisfied that she was on time for her schedule for the day, Hermione apparated to the Leaky Cauldron where she was to get some last minute things in Diagon Alley. Murmuring a greeting to Tom, she strolled through the back of the Inn and into the street. It was a fairly quiet day and Hermione popped into Flynn's Hair Supplies to replenish her stock of Sleekeazy. Stepping back out into Diagon Alley, Hermione paused to think for a moment before heading towards the Magical Menagerie. She knew Harry still missed Hedwig occasionally, but was very aware that he didn't have another owl. It was a risky present, but as she spotted a very handsome Tiger Owl, she thought it was perfect for him. After the War, Harry felt more like a brother than ever before. She didn't know whether it was because they had spent that time alone together when Ron left, but whatever it was, she was grateful for it.

As Hermione left the shop, a bracelet in a nearby jewellery shop caught her eye and she peered through the shop window at the delicate piece of silver, pressing her nose against the glass.

"Seen something you like, Granger?"

Hermione whirled around to the sound of Malfoy's voice. He was smirking at her but not in a spiteful way. That was something that she had to get used to. "Well, that bracelet _is_ rather pretty."  
>Malfoy glanced at it and shrugged. "I guess so. What are you doing in Diagon Alley? Shouldn't you be at home doing your hair or something? I thought all girls did that sort of thing – getting up at five in the morning to paint their nails before going out at seven that following evening."<p>

"Oh, ha ha," Hermione rolled her eyes. "I was just buying some last minute things. Anyway, shouldn't _you_ be at home sorting out your house?"

"House elves are doing it." He folded his arms proudly and laughed as Hermione frowned. "Really, Granger, you need to drop that whole house elf thing. Don't you realise that they enjoy working for nothing?"

"How do you know?" She retorted, pointing at him. "You don't know that if you presented them with the opportunities of having pay and days off, they might be delighted!"

"They'd be insulted and probably punish themselves. Now, you wouldn't want that would you?" Malfoy shook his head, pretending to be disappointed in Hermione's suggestion.

"Oh, be quiet," She snapped not unkindly.

"What's with the owl?" He gestured to the large sleeping bird in the cage.

"Birthday present for Harry." Her stomach rumbled loudly and she checked her watch. "Right, I need to head off home for lunch. I'll see you this evening."

"See you later," Malfoy smiled and, if Hermione wasn't mistaken, he almost went forward to kiss her on the cheek but thought better of it at the last minute, resulting in him doing an awkward wobble. She stifled a giggle and waved goodbye, heading back towards the Leaky Cauldron.

Hermione apparated home with her purchases and made herself lunch. She had half an hour before Ginny was arriving to help her, and she could feel her stomach begin to tighten with the notorious nerves which always crept up on her. It didn't help that she had seen Malfoy earlier which only made this evening seem more real. After ten minutes, she sat down and gulped down her soup and bread, forcing herself to swallow and then breathe deeply once she'd finished.

_There's no use in getting worked up, Hermione_, she scolded herself. _You'll make everything appear worse_. She stood up to clean the dishes when she heard her floo roar.

"Hello?" She asked cautiously, pausing.

"Hi, sorry, I came over early because I was bored and you have to get ready sooner or later and I thought you'd be ready to start by now." Ginny rushed out in one breath as she jogged into the kitchen. "Good, you're done with lunch."

Hermione glanced down at her soup bowl and then up at Ginny in amazement. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine, why shouldn't I be?" She replied brightly.

"You seem a little odd to say the least." Hermione washed the dishes with a quick flick of her wand and then moved past Ginny to go upstairs. "Coming?"

Ginny was practically hopping up the stairs in excitement, trying to push past Hermione with her slow pace. When they got to the landing, it was a small, wooden corridor with three doors. The first door was Hermione's room and Ginny squeezed past her and threw open the bedroom door, searching for the dress. "Where is it?"

"Seriously, Gin, calm down! What is wrong with you, woman?" Hermione chided her best friend and pushed Ginny out of the cupboard door so she could reach her dress. She laid it out on the bed and then stared at Ginny shrewdly. "Before we start, I want to know what's going on."

"What do you mean?" Ginny feigned innocence and widened her eyes.

"Why are you acting so … _hyper_? Something's happened – don't try and persuade me otherwise." She warned.

Ginny sighed and flopped down beside the dress, stroking the soft material. Her shoulders seemed to deflate and she looked up at Hermione glumly. "I'm pregnant, Hermione. I'm pregnant."

Hermione clutched onto the cupboard door for support. "Are you serious?" and when Ginny nodded she squealed happily. "Ginny! That's brilliant news!"  
>"Is it though?"<p>

"Yes, of course it is! Why wouldn't it be?" She added, toning down the excitement in her voice and bending down onto her knees to look up at Ginny's downturned face.

"Because … I guess I had envisioned another couple of years or so with just me and Harry. We've only been married a year and I'm twenty in October." Ginny shook her head and tried to disguise the tears which were beginning to fall. "I don't know what Harry will say, an-and I've b-been trying to act…"  
>She broke down into sobs and Hermione enveloped her into a cuddle, stroking her hair soothingly and murmuring into her ear. She waited until Ginny had begun to calm down before pulling back and wiping her tear-stained cheeks. "Are you alright now?"<p>

She nodded and sniffed heartily. "I'll be fine. I just need to tell Harry and we can make a decision."

"Are you definitely sure you're pregnant?" Hermione clambered to her feet and pulled Ginny up with her.

"Yes," She whispered, tears beginning to form in her eyes again. "When I missed my last period, I cast the charm on my stomach – it was pink." She hastily rubbed her eyes and then added quietly, "Oh, how I wanted it to be blue."

Hermione smiled comfortingly. "You never know, this could be one of the best things that has ever happened to you. Babies are wonderful."

"Yeah, maybe if I was twenty five or something but not right _now. _Anyway, let's get you ready." Ginny plastered a smile on her face and then pushed Hermione gently onto her chair in front of the mirror. "Here we go …"  
>Hermione was impressed with Ginny. She mentioned no more of her pregnancy and as an hour passed by, she was back to her usual cheery self. Hermione grinned at Ginny as she finished her hair and began her makeup. The usual brown bushiness was sleek and shiny, her hair done in a half-up-half-down style. Two strands framed her face and jewelled clip that Ginny had found would go perfectly with her dress. She checked her watch and was alarmed to find that the ball was starting in half an hour.<p>

"Relax, Hermione, I'll pluck out half your eyebrow if you aren't careful!" Ginny warned her but a chuckle escaped her lips.

"It's half past three!" She squeaked in return, the previous nerves beginning to squirm their way back into her stomach.

"That's plenty of time – we'll be done in twenty minutes. Besides, it's fashionable to be late." Ginny smirked and continued to pluck, ignoring Hermione's frequent update of the time.

True to her word, Ginny finished the make-up at ten-to-four and turned to the bed to gently pick up the dress. "Can you pull this over your hips or will it have to go over your head?"

"I'll try and pull it up," Hermione wriggled out of her clothes as well as she could without disturbing her hair. She took the dress from Ginny and stepped into it, the silk material rubbing softly up her body. Hermione got it on fine, and discarded her bra as Ginny tied it up at the nape of her neck. She waved her wand at her chest to give it invisible support and padding, and it was times like these that she was so thankful for being a witch.

"You look beautiful, Hermione." Ginny positively beamed as she stepped back to glance at Hermione up and down. "Where are your shoes?"

Hermione pointed to the cupboard and she glanced into her mirror. The dress looked just as fabulous as it did in the shop and Ginny's handiwork completed the look. The makeup was subtle and natural, with a tinge of silver on her eyelids. "Thank you so much, Ginny. I couldn't have done this without you." It was true, and Hermione regretted thinking earlier that she could have got away with it on her own.

She slipped on her silver heels and grinned at her best friend who looked like she was going to cry again. "What's the matter?" She asked softly, reaching out to touch her elbow.

"You just look wonderful." She gave a watery chuckle. "I'm just sad you're not going with anyone."

Hermione shrugged as she slipped some silver bangles onto her wrist. "I'll be fine, don't you worry. What's the time?"

"You have two minutes." Ginny smiled and hugged Hermione gently, trying not to crease the dress. "Do you want me to side-apparate with you?"

Hermione shook her head and grabbed her clutch bag. "Thanks so much for your help, Ginny. You're welcome to stay here tonight if you want."

"No, I need to get back to talk to Harry. Don't worry, I'll lock up! Floo or owl me tomorrow to tell me all about it!"

"Sure thing!" Hermione waved before apparating half a mile down the road. She arrived at modest wooden gates and she pushed through them, walking down the pathway to the house. Small poplars had been entwined with lights to be lit when it got dark. The sunlight was still very much alive and it warmed Hermione's shoulders as she made her way towards the stone house. She suddenly felt very alone and wished she had taken up Ron or Ginny's offer to accompany her. Hermione almost faltered when she heard two people apparate behind her and begin whispering loudly. She quickened her pace slightly and finally made it to the front door where she hurriedly pressed the doorbell. It was a very handsome oak door and the polished brass knocker of a snake seemed to glare intrusively at her.

Before she could turn around and apparate home, the door finally swung open and Malfoy stood there dressed handsomely in black slacks and an open-necked charcoal shirt. His silver eyes seemed to widen slightly as he took in Hermione's appearance before he finally remembered his manners and invited her in. "My, you look beautiful, if you don't mind me saying."

Hermione blushed profusely and returned the compliment. "As do you. I mean, you don't look beautiful because you say that to girls, right? You look nice, no, you look handsome. Oh my word." She babbled and almost dissolved into tears there and then. What was wrong with her? Where was her smoothness? Avoiding the way his blond hair seemed to be so messy, yet so attractive, Hermione decided to go for a safe option by complimenting his home. "Your house is lovely, Malfoy."

He gazed at her, his whole face twitching with suppressed laughter. "Thank you. I know that you might be feeling uncomfortable with the people here, but they aren't the same as they were at Hogwarts. I promise." He added reassuringly, guiding her back outside with a light touch to the small of her back. Her hairs seemed to stand on end at the contact and she sucked in a small breath. As they entered the garden, a few hostile glances were sent her way but Hermione distracted herself by absorbing the amazing décor.

The garden seemed to stretch on for miles and to the left of her was a grand marquee for when it got colder. There were also about fifteen round tables covered beautifully in white linen, with a large candle placed in the middle. Hermione assumed that the tables would disappear after eating as she spied a large dance floor towards one end of the marquee.

At the moment, everyone was standing on the patio just outside of the back doors where a live band was playing smooth jazz from underneath an awning. A few waiters dressed in white were serving drinks and one immediately swooped down next to her, holding out a tray with several glasses of bubbling champagne set upon it.

"Thank you," she murmured taking a glass. She realised that Malfoy had disappeared from her side and now wished more than ever that someone she knew was with her, and she stood awkwardly by the patio doors searching for a friendly face.

"Is that … Granger? Is that you?" A whiny voice caused Hermione to turn around and face a petite black haired witch dressed in a brilliant green frock.

"Er, yes, it is." She replied, racking her brains to try and remember who this woman was before her.

"It's Pansy, Pansy Parkinson. Why are you here? Draco didn't invite you, did he?" She asked, narrowing her eyes dangerously at Hermione.

Ah, yes, Hermione saw it. The pug look. She tensed, expecting there to be an argument after her reply. "Yes, he did invite me. That is why I am here."

Pansy _harrumphed_ and folded her arms crossly. "Well, I don't think you'll enjoy your evening very much. This place is _full_ of people who dislike you and your silly friends."

"Okay, I'll bear that in mind. Thanks for letting me know." Hermione smiled sweetly before turning on her heel and moving off in the ever-growing crowd.

Despite the Malfoy's tarnished name, over one hundred guests had arrived at Draco's home. Amongst the throng of people, Hermione had found Kingsley Shacklebolt – the Minister for Magic – and had almost stayed by his side for the majority of the evening. She had been approached by a couple of Slytherin's who she vaguely recognised from her school days, but she had mostly received dirty looks from the surrounding guests.

"Don't let it get to you, Hermione. They're probably aimed at me more than you." Kingsley had said in his deep voice, about two hours into the party.

At about seven o'clock, the guests floated into the marquee to start the meal. There were name cards placed on the tables and Hermione found hers, with a huge sigh of relief, next to Kingsley. She had to thank Draco for his thoughtfulness. Also on their table were five others. She only knew one out of them, and that was Blaise Zabini. He was one of the few Slytherin's that Hermione remembered who didn't have any part in the wizarding war. He was, surprisingly, neutral. Three years on, Blaise Zabini was a very handsome, tall chap, with his smooth dark skin and prominent cheekbones.

He only nodded his head at her in greeting, and she gave a small smile in return. Her eyes wandered around the table and realised the four other people were married couples. They were also noticeably older than the majority of the people here, and Kingsley seemed to already know them. Hermione assumed that they were also from the Ministry and it looks like she wasn't the only person that Malfoy was trying to make comfortable. Her heart suddenly reached out to Draco when she realised the amount of effort he had put in to make everyone happy.

Her thoughts were interrupted when Blaise actually spoke to her. "So, how are things, Granger?"

"Going well, thank you," She turned in her seat to face the man next to her. "How are they for you?"

"Not too bad."

Hermione smiled, unsure. _This is a great conversation_, she thought, fiddling with the clip in her hair. She was saved by the starter appearing in front of them – baked mushrooms stuffed with ricotta. It looked splendid. "So, what do you do now?"

Blaise smirked. "I'm just finishing my training as an Auror."

"Really?" Hermione was surprised. She would have never thought Blaise Zabini to work in the Ministry, let alone be an Auror. He always seemed to be a lone soldier, never a team player. "That sounds brilliant."

He nodded and took a sip of his Firewhiskey. "What about you?"

"I'm about to start at Hogwarts, teaching Transfiguration!" She beamed as she said it, unable to contain her excitement.

Blaise raised his eyebrows in amazement. "Really? Isn't that where D-"

"Hermione!" Kingsley's booming voice interrupted their conversation. "You haven't met Albert and Polly Greenhouse, have you? They both work in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. I was just telling them your passion about house elves' rights."

Hermione turned to them with interest and they struck up a very deep conversation about receiving pay and days off for their hard work. She couldn't tell if they had the same view as her, but they were certainly enthralled to be talking with the famous Hermione Granger.

The food was superb and Hermione felt stuffed after swallowing the last mouthful of the delicate chocolate torte. The band had managed to reappear under the marquee and the music began to pick up a little as people began to move onto the dance floor. She stood up and Hermione spotted Malfoy weaving in and out of people, receiving their thanks. He seemed to be constantly pestered by Pansy who was trailing after him, a simpering smile on her face every time he glanced at her. She couldn't help but be amused at the way he treated her. Couldn't Pansy see that he didn't want anything to do with her?

"Find something funny, Granger?" It was one of the few friendly voices she had heard all evening, and she smiled at Blaise when she turned to face him.

"Hello again." She giggled as he kissed her hand, suspecting that he was a little tipsy. "Where did you go?"

"Yes, hello, Granger. I got bored and went to see some other people. It's no fun when you're talking to some couple about house elves." He murmured, his dark eyes twinkling. "Care to dance? I am particularly fond of this track and you do look rather sexy."

Hermione blushed and let him guide her on to the dance floor, unsure about where this was going. The song wasn't one she recognised, but it was slow and gentle. As they moved around the polished floor, Hermione tried to keep her eyes focused on a small white feather on Blaise's black shirt to avoid receiving more glares. She was very conscious of the fact that one hand was placed very near her bottom, and she readjusted her own hand from his collarbone across to his shoulder. Blaise seemed to be unhappy with this new situation so he shifted his body closer, forcing her to wrap her arms around his neck as he placed both of his around her hips.

"This is much better," he whispered seductively into her ear, before moving down to her neck where he began to kiss it slowly and gently.

Hermione began to panic. What was going on? What was he doing? She didn't want this! Just as Blaise began to suck on a spot on her neck, Hermione pulled away and rushed off the dance floor. A part of her wanted to go back and let him carry on because it felt _so_ good, but she knew it wasn't right. She stood by the entrance to the marquee, breathing heavily and debating whether or not to go home. As she looked back over her shoulder to the crowd, she saw Malfoy making a beeline towards her, concern written on his face. He ignored all the people trying to get his attention and gently took Hermione outside when he reached her.

"Are you okay?" He asked uneasily. "I saw what happened – I am so sorry for his behaviour."

Hermione nodded and smiled to reassure him. "I'm fine, just a little shocked, that's all. I just wasn't expecting it."

"Hmm," Malfoy frowned slightly before scratching the back of his head. "Are you enjoying yourself, otherwise? I know it's hard and I've tried to tell people to give you a break. Pansy told me what she said." He added, gritting his teeth.

"Oh, did she?" Hermione arched an eyebrow.

"Just ignore her. She has no idea what she's on about and she is driving me absolutely insane with her constant following." He growled, peering into the entrance to check she wasn't there.

Hermione chuckled. "She's a funny one. It's a bit cold out here…can we go back inside?"  
>"Of course, you don't have to ask!" Malfoy said, amused by her extreme politeness. "Fancy a dance?"<p>

"Don't try and kiss me and I'll say yes," she joked in reply.

Malfoy grinned and took her hand to lead her to the dance floor. Hermione felt all eyes on her as _she_, the _mudblood_, was dancing with the man who used to bully her at school. He placed one hand carefully on her waist, the tip of his fingers grazing her flesh, with the other one gently clasped in her hand.

"I know I've already said this, but you do look beautiful tonight."

She didn't know what to say. All of this was so surreal. Hermione had never really thought herself of being that attractive, but that was obviously the opposite since two of the most handsome men she had seen in her life had complimented her tonight, albeit two _very_ different ways. She knew which one she preferred. All she murmured was, "Thank you."

"So, what are you doing at the moment in life?" He asked, spinning her around carefully.

"I'm replacing professor McGonagall at Hogwarts for Transfiguration!" She immediately became more animated, Malfoy noticed, her eyes lighting up and a wide smile spreading across her face.

"Oh really?" He almost stopped dancing with surprise. They had to pause a moment before stepping back into the rhythm of the song.

"Yes, I'm really excited. I start in September – it'll be lovely going back there again." She noticed the slip-up in the dance but thought nothing of it. It was probably her fault; she never was any good at dancing.

"That sounds good." He paused before drastically changing the subject. "Have you spoken to the Minister this evening? I thought it'd be good to invite him as it would make it more comfortable for you." He added with a small smile.

Still touched that he thought of her like that, Hermione beamed up at him and almost embraced him as they danced. "Oh, yes I have, thank you. We had a very interesting talk about house elves with the couple on our table too."

"Oh dear, not that again." Malfoy rolled his eyes. "You do make me laugh."  
>Hermione blushed again and looked down at his shirt. She suddenly noticed that they were very close to each other and she could smell his aftershave, which was very attractive. When she looked up again, he was watching her carefully.<p>

"Is everything okay?" He guided them both off the dance floor towards the back of the marquee where there were very few people.

"Yes, of course. I'm having a lovely time." Hermione suddenly felt very cold with the lack of contact.

"Good."

Before she knew what was happening, Malfoy gently cupped her face with both of his hands and kissed her softly on the forehead. It was quick and he gave her a small smile before disappearing back into the crowd.

She didn't see him again that evening.

**So sorry for the long update! But anyway, hope it was worth the wait, and a quick question - do you like the idea of Ginny being pregnant?**


	4. Chapter 4

**_Disclaimer: I own nothing._**

_Chapter 4_

The days following the Summer Ball were distracting for Hermione. She could not stop thinking about Draco's kiss, no matter how small it was. It even got to the point where Ron was having a full on conversation with her and she was totally blanking him, too lost in her own thoughts.

"Hermione, what is up with you?" Ron scowled and prodded her on the shoulder to bring her back to the present. They were sitting on the sofa at the Burrow, celebrating the news of Ginny's pregnancy and Harry's birthday. She had told him two nights ago, and he was delighted at the prospect of becoming a father.

"Oh, I'm so sorry; my head is just about to burst." She daren't tell Ron or Harry what had happened. Although they had been fine with her going to the ball, she thought they wouldn't take too kindly to Blaise's advances or Draco's small kiss.

"Anything you want to talk about?" Ron's hand rested on her shoulder and she suddenly realised that they were alone in the living room. Everyone else was outside laying the final touches to the lunch table.

"Oh, no, it's just silly things – I'll be fine. I have to leave for Hogwarts in less than a month." Hermione smiled reassuringly at her best friend. "It'll be like old times."

"I wish we could go back with you," Ron replied wistfully. "I'll miss you, Hermione."

She laughed softly. "Don't be silly, we can always meet up in Hogsmeade." She was aware that his hand had moved to touch her hair gently. The closeness was uncomfortable for her and she prayed for some kind of interruption.

"It won't be the same," Ron mumbled quietly, looking down. He dropped his hand and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, as if he sensed her discomfort.

Hermione grimaced and gave him a hug. "I'll write to you, you know that. Whether you'll write back is another matter." She joked into his ear to which he responded with a light chuckle. "Anyway, I'm still here for a couple more weeks. We'll save the goodbyes for then."

Ron nodded as they broke apart and he stood up with a stretch. "Shall we go outside? I'm sure they're finished."

As they both strolled back into the warm sunlight, Hermione was glad she had chosen to wear a light sundress. The heat was strong and she could see drops of perspiration forming on Harry's forehead as he lay down the cutlery.

"Where have you two been?" Mrs Weasley asked shrewdly, pointing a knife at the two of them.

"They were probably making out in the broom shed, mum, whilst we're all out here, slaving away under the hot sun." George shook his head and received a punch in the arm from Ron.

He was blushing furiously and Hermione hoped it was due to the sun. "Shut your face, George."

"Woah, chill out bro', only telling the truth."  
>"Apart from it's not the truth!" Ron growled in response, blushing even harder.<p>

"Alright, boys, stop it. George, go inside and fetch Harry's presents, Ron, help Ginny put the umbrella up." Mrs Weasley snapped impatiently, glaring at her two sons. They had both sauntered off to their duties when Mr Weasley came out of the house and clapped his hands appreciatively when he saw the food.

"Well, Molly, you have outdone yourself once again. I don't know how I would live without you!" He kissed her on the cheek and sat down at the head of the table, eyeing the garlic bread hungrily.

"Come on, sit down everyone!" Molly ordered, once George had come back outside and they were protected from the glare of the sun.

All in all, there were eight of them seated around the long table stacked with food. Bill and Fleur were in France visiting her parents and Charlie was still in Romania.

"So, father, I was talking to the Minister yesterday at work, and he thinks that there _should_ be some law about house elves," Percy scoffed to his father, as if he was disgusted by the idea.

"Well there should be!" Hermione argued from down the table, overhearing Percy's scornful comment and her eyes flashed angrily. She was seated between Ron and Harry and she had to lean around Ron's figure as he shovelled couscous into his mouth.

"But, Hermione, they _want_ to work! That's why they act the way they do when you threaten them with clothes!" Percy retorted, his glasses glinting in the sunlight. "I don't know why you're still going on about it, Hermione; I don't think it'll happen."

"The Minister obviously thinks differently," She glared back at the third eldest Weasley but he just shook his head.

"Ignore him, Hermione," Harry muttered in her ear.

Sending one last glower to Percy, she forced a smile to Harry and sighed. "Is it okay if I give you your present later? It's a little awkward to wrap."

Harry nodded and grinned. "That's fine." He glanced at Ginny who was chatting animatedly with her mother. "I can't believe we're going to be parents."

"I know!" Hermione squealed almost too loudly and Ron winced beside her. "It's so exciting – I'm so happy for you both."

"It's scary, though." He added quietly.

"Yes, I expect it's pretty daunting but you'll both make excellent parents." She encouraged him, squeezing his shoulder comfortingly.

"Thanks, Hermione. I hope so." He gave her half a smile before turning back to his food.

Lunch passed slowly but the table was full of chatter and laughter. The sun was beginning to cool by the time Molly came back out with a large cake in the shape of the number twenty one. They broke into a chorus of _Happy Birthday_ and Hermione quickly slipped away to fetch Harry's owl. She entered the Burrow and wandered down the dark corridor to Ginny's old bedroom where she had placed the owl. She had just picked it up and turned to leave when she collided with Ron who was stood right outside the door.

The owl screeched loudly in irritation at being woken from its slumber and Ron mumbled a quick apology, averting his gaze. He fidgeted for a moment before moving to the left to unblock the way for Hermione.

"Really, Ron, what are you doing? Why did you follow me?" Hermione questioned, spinning round to face him and narrowing her eyes.

"I-I wanted to …" He trailed off and stared at a spot above her shoulder, determined not to make eye contact.

She raised an eyebrow, dreading what she thought was going to follow his stutter.

"Hermione, I need to tell you – it's driving me mad." Ron said, taking a deep breath and flicking his blue eyes to her brown ones.

She remained silent and waited for him to carry on, shifting her weight awkwardly to the other foot.

"I like you," He blurted out. "I mean, I _really_ like you. I don't want you to say anything right now … just, think about what I've said, okay?"

Her stomach dropped. Through the floor and into the earth. Why? _Why_ did he have to say those three words and just make what she and Ginny speculated true? _Argh, why does he have to make everything so complicated when I already like Malf- _Her train of thought made her mouth drop open and Ron cringed at Hermione's expression, mistakenly thinking that it was about his confession.

"No, Hermione, please. Don't say anything or do anything … just think about it." And with that, he turned around and went back outside to his family.

She took a moment to gather herself before readjusting her grip on Harry's present. My, oh my, did she almost just say that she liked Malfoy? _Malfoy_? Where on earth did that spring from? She almost forgot Ron's announcement in her shock. She scurried back outside biting her lip and she very nearly failed to wish Harry a happy birthday when she handed him his owl. Shaking her head to bring her back to reality, Hermione plastered a smile on her face.

"Oh, _wow_, Hermione!" Harry's eyes were as wide as galleons as he took the cage from Hermione's grasp. "No _way_! This is brilliant! Thank you so much!"

Any qualms that she had had about the owl disappeared the instant she heard his reaction. Beaming, she hugged him tightly and whispered, "Glad you like it. And it's a 'he', just so you know."

"I know what I'm going to call him," Harry stated proudly, holding up the cage in the afternoon sunlight so everyone could see. "Sirius."

"Sirius the Tiger Owl!" Hermione crowed, clapping her hands.

"Or the Great Horned Owl - whichever you prefer." Percy piped up, receiving an unimpressed look from Hermione.

"Everyone knows that, Perce. But great present, by the way," George nodded, impressed.

"Thanks, George." She laughed and hugged the one-eared wizard. "How's the shop going?" She asked, once Harry began to open his other presents after releasing Sirius to fly.

"Pretty well, actually. It's sometimes … hard, but it's fine. Ron sometimes pops in to help." He mumbled quietly, smiling sadly.

"I'll come in and see you soon. I'm planning a trip to Diagon Alley to meet up with a few old school friends." Hermione said brightly, determined to not let George dwell on his twin's death.

George perked up and grinned. "That'd be brilliant, thanks Hermione." He hugged her again and Hermione caught Ron's eye and he looked away hurriedly.

She frowned. She had some thinking to do.

* * *

><p>As the 31st of August grew closer, Hermione quickly made plans to see Lavender and Parvati in Diagon Alley. It was a week before she was due to leave for Hogwarts and she was beginning to pack for the year ahead. Although she was tingling with excitement at the prospect of teaching back at Hogwarts, she couldn't help but feel a slither of sadness when she realised that Ron and Harry weren't going back with her. It was going to feel incredibly odd strolling around the grounds of the castle without her two best friends beside her.<p>

Dismissing the unpleasant thoughts, Hermione checked her watch one last time before flooing to the Leaky Cauldron. They had arranged to meet at one o'clock in a little Italian café which had opened a year after the war and had become very popular. As she stepped out into the sunlight of Diagon Alley, Hermione spotted Lavender's golden curls bouncing next to Parvati's dark, shimmering hair. She weaved through the numerous shoppers and caught up with the pair just as they arrived outside the café.

"Hello," Hermione said breathlessly, a grin stretched upon her face. "Do you want to sit outside? It's lovely weather."

The two best friends nodded and the trio sat down on wicker chairs, catching the attention of a handsome waiter.

"Good afternoon ladies, here are your menus. I'll come back over in a short while." The man flashed a smile before tending to another table. Parvati giggled and nudged Lavender who was eyeing the waiter's bottom appreciatively.

"So, how are you both?" Hermione asked, fiddling with her napkin.

"Well thanks," Lavender replied cheerily. "Business at the magazine company is going brilliantly!"

"Oh, good – which magazine do you own?"

"_Whisper_. Lavender and I set it up a few years ago." Parvati said proudly. "It's overtaken _Witch Weekly_ on the best selling magazine – now number two on the list!"

"What's number one?" Hermione glanced at her menu before deciding on the basil risotto and scallops.

Lavender rolled her eyes. "Don't you know _anything_ about the magazine world, Hermione? It's Rita Skeeter's and it's called _Skeeter World_. I mean, what's a more stupid name than that?"

Hermione was intrigued. After she had blackmailed Rita back in fourth year, Hermione had figured that she was no longer part of the journalism world. Obviously not. "Yes, that is a rather silly name. Well, I'm sure you'll be number one in no time at all."

The two women beamed at Hermione and then switched their eyes to the waiter who had appeared beside them. After a lot of blushing and giggling, they finally ordered their meals with Hermione watching them with complete amusement.

"And you, Madame?"

"I'll have the basil risotto, please." She smiled and handed back the menu and he hurried off. "I dare one of you to ask for his number."

Lavender gasped, "We couldn't do that, Hermione! That's his job!"

Hermione just wiggled her eyebrows and settled back into her chair, bathing in the lunchtime sun. She was glancing around, watching the bustling people when a familiar blond head caught her eye. Draco Malfoy was strolling down Diagon Alley towards the café with a woman clasping his hand. Hermione's eyes bulged and something hot in her stomach seemed to burn her insides. "Oh my word," She muttered and searched the table to find something to hide her face.

"What?" Lavender and Parvati asked together.

"Nothing, nothing." Hermione glanced in his direction just as he looked at their table. Their eyes met and Hermione paused in her scrabbling to stare at his expression. If she wasn't mistaken, she swore she noted a flicker of what seemed like embarrassment and shame in his eyes. That was interesting. The moment was ruined, however, when he appeared to be yanked away by the black haired woman who was clutching onto him like some kind of sea urchin.

"Hermione! Was that Malfoy? _Draco_ Malfoy?" Lavender hissed, flicking her eyes back and forth between the two people.

"Yes, yes it was." _Unfortunately_. Hermione sighed.

"Is there anything going on between you two? I know you went to his Summer Ball." Parvati added with a knowing smirk.

"No!" Hermione shook her head quickly. Whilst Lavender and Parvati were her friends, she wasn't prepared to tell them something which would probably be escalated out of control if they found out. No, it was best that the kiss – no matter how small – should not be shared in this conversation. "Yes, I went to his Summer Ball, but that was it."

"What was it like? Who was there? What did you wear?" Lavender asked leaning forward eagerly, her eyes sparkling. Hermione wouldn't be surprised if Parvati was writing this down. Somehow, a nice day out for lunch had turned into an interview.

"It was fine. Lots of people. A dress." Hermione answered shortly and was pleased when the waiter interrupted and handed them their food. She wasn't prepared to satisfy Lavender's appetite for gossip, especially when it was about something so trivial.

Lavender frowned at Hermione's responses but it immediately transformed into a wide smile when she spotted the waiter. "Thank you," She fluttered her lashes a little and the waiter looked bemused.

"Enjoy your meal." He glanced at Lavender once more, a small smirk on his face, before walking away.

Parvati was trying to stifle her laughter. "Lavender!" She gasped, clutching the arm rest once the man had left. "Could you _be_ any more subtle?"

Hermione snorted when Lavender turned a bright red.

"Was I that obvious?" She mumbled, taking a bite of her salad and glancing sulkily towards the back of the waiter.

"Yeah, just a bit." Her best friend was still laughing and had to take a sip of water to calm herself down.

"Well, at least I made an attempt," Lavender snapped, fed up of Parvati's giggling at her attempt to flirt with the waiter. "Better than what _you've_ done."

Parvati immediately stopped laughing and looked down at her lasagne, prodding it with her fork. "Food seems nice," She muttered.

Hermione nodded and smiled brightly, trying to lighten the mood. "Yes, it's lovely. I've only been here twice before – I must come more oft…" She trailed off as she realised that she probably wouldn't be able to frequent the restaurant as much as she would have liked. The year at Hogwarts leered at her unpleasantly in her mind.

"What's the matter?" Parvati asked, looking fairly concerned at the brown haired witch.

Hermione shook her head. "Oh, nothing, I was just thinking about my new job."

Lavender perked up at the word 'new'. Whether it was new shoes, new car or new job, Lavender would be there already asking questions. "Ooh, yes, at Hogwarts! Are you nervous? I kind of wish I could go back there…"

Hermione shrugged and popped some food into her mouth before answering. "Yes and no. I think it'll be weird considering I'll only be about three years older than the oldest students there, but other than that, I'm looking forward to it."

"Well, it sounds perfect for you, Hermione." Parvati grinned at her.

Lavender looked thoughtful for a moment, looking scornfully at her best friend. "To be honest, I hope you don't mind me saying, but I thought you would have gone into the Ministry or become a Healer or something."

Hermione laughed awkwardly. "Yeah, everyone seems to think that. I don't know, I guess I would prefer teaching. I feel more comfortable with the idea when I think about it."

"If it's what you want to do, then do it!" The dark haired witch encouraged her with bright eyes. "I know so many unhappy people with their job all because they thought it had the best salary, or it was what their partner or parents wanted them to do."

Hermione genuinely beamed at Parvati for that comment. "Thanks Parvati, that means a lot. You've made me even more certain – not that I can back out now." She added with a nervous laugh.

Lavender only pursed her lips at the conversation but didn't say anything. Hermione realised that she could only tolerate her in small doses, and this was one dose too large.

The rest of the meal passed fairly quickly and Hermione was slightly pleased when Lavender announced that she had to leave. She hugged Hermione tightly and promised to write to her when she was at Hogwarts – which she knew she wouldn't do – and waved goodbye to Parvati.

"She is my best friend and everything, but sometimes, she doesn't half get on my nerves with what she says." Parvati rolled her eyes at Lavender's retreating figure.

Hermione half nodded in agreement, reluctant to enter into some sort of backstabbing session about today's lunch which she could feel that Parvati was desperate to start. "Oh, wow, look at the time! I have to go, I'm so sorry!"

She felt slightly guilty at leaving Parvati on her own but she really did have somewhere to go to. As Hermione was leaving for Hogwarts in exactly a week, Mrs Weasley had arranged a goodbye meal for her as was the tradition before they all left when they were at school. She was stuffed already from her risotto and she had no idea how she was going to fit in Mrs Weasley's amazing cooking. Checking her watch still read three o'clock, Hermione flooed back home to shower and change into something a little more comfortable. She was feeling quite sticky from sitting out in the sun and it also gave her time to brood over Malfoy; which she didn't actually _intend_ to do, but ended up doing so anyway.

She dried her hair with her wand, dressed in some linen trousers and a tank top, and apparated to the Burrow. Ginny greeted her with a huge smile when she stepped through the doorway after knocking politely. "Hey, how was the lunch today?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and laughed. "It wasn't that bad, actually, just Lavender made the conversation a little awkward at points."

Ginny shook her head. "Never mind – we're having a barbeque tonight, is that okay?"

"Yeah, sure, that sounds lovely!"

Ron appeared then, smiling shyly at Hermione who shifted awkwardly. "Hey."

"Hey," he murmured. "I hear you went for lunch with Lavender and Parvati today?"

She nodded and watched with horror as Ginny left them alone in the hallway. "Yeah, it was alright. Lavender looked nice." It was a feeble and awful attempt at bringing up his ex-girlfriend, and if Hermione wanted to make the conversation feel less awkward, she succeeded in doing the exact opposite.

Ron glanced at his feet and shoved his hands deep into his jean pockets. "Mum wants to say 'hi'," he mumbled. "So you better come through."

He led the way not looking at her and Hermione suddenly felt terrible. She felt terrible for Ron and his feelings for her, she felt terrible for the way she didn't return them, and she felt terrible for the way she had brought Lavender up like that. And it didn't help that she kept thinking about Draco Malfoy! His face kept occupying her thoughts, but when she had seen the woman with him earlier, she had felt hurt. It wasn't as if they were a couple or anything, she had no _possession _over him, so why were tears beginning to prick at her eyes when she thought of him and that woman cavorting about? She was having an emotional breakdown! She forced herself to think of something else and gave a wide smile to Mrs Weasley when they got to the kitchen.

"Hello, dear, how have you been?" Mrs Weasley cooed, squeezing her. "I can't believe you're going in a week!"

"I know, it's a little daunting actually," Hermione admitted as the rest of the Weasley clan plus Harry joined them in the kitchen.

"Hey, Harry," Hermione gave her best friend a tight hug and wished she could do that to Ron without it being awkward.

"I have to say thank you again for Sirius, he's such an amazing owl! He's so docile but fast and once he likes you, he's like a new best friend."

"Hey!" Ron lightly poked Harry on the shoulder. "I bet he's not as good as us."

Harry rolled his eyes and didn't bother answer Ron. He turned to Ginny instead and kissed her on the forehead, wrapping his arm around her tiny waist.

Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione spied Ron frowning slightly at the married couple and glance wistfully at herself when he thought she wasn't looking. She cringed inside – could he make it any more obvious? To distract herself, she offered to help Mrs Weasley make up a salad and she was pleased when Ron suggested to Harry and George a game of Quidditch in the garden.

She heard Ginny come up beside her and take the knife and the cucumber out of her hands. "You and I need to talk, missy."

"Do we?" Hermione squeaked, trying to snatch the cucumber back. "I didn't finish chopping!"

"It doesn't matter! We're having a chat. Now." Ginny took her by the arm and dragged her into her old bedroom where they sat down on the squeaky single bed.

"What do you want to talk about, Gin?" Hermione asked nervously, fiddling with her hair.

Ginny folded her arms and almost glared at her. "Why are you acting so weird around Ron? And vice versa! Has something happened that you aren't telling me?" She added, her mouth turning into a fierce frown which could rival her mother's.

"Well," Hermione began, taking a shuddering breath. "Basically, he admitted that he liked me a couple of weeks ago, here, at the Burrow, when it was Harry's birthday and your baby celebration thing. He asked me to just think about it, and to be honest, I haven't at all. I've, er, been thinking about…other things…" She trailed off and couldn't help turning a bright scarlet.

"Other things," Ginny repeated sceptically. She thought for a brief second and then clapped a hand to her mouth. "You _haven't_?"

"Haven't what?" She replied innocently.

"Malfoy! No way! What happened at the ball? I don't think you actually told me, Hermione. You kind of skirted around the subject a bit and I was very hurt." Ginny poked her tongue out at her and pleaded with her eyes for Hermione to tell her.

"Fine! He kissed me, okay? It was only on the forehead though, but we danced very close and he was very kind to me." Hermione averted her gaze from Ginny's. "I can't stop thinking about it and I saw him _today_ with some black-haired bimbo."

Ginny snorted. "Do I spy some kind of green-monster, Hermione?" She suddenly turned serious. "I suppose the whole thing with Ron isn't helping either … what would you do if he asked you out?"

"Ron? I have no idea, Gin." Hermione bowed her head, defeated. "I don't want to hurt him by saying no, but I don't want to lead him on by saying yes."

"Well, you knew how it went the first time and so did he, but he's willing to try again so maybe he's changed?"

"You think I should give it a go?" Hermione asked, completely surprised. "I don't know if it's a good idea, Ginny. I mean, after see- no never mind."

"What?" Her best friend pressed gently. "Go on, say."

Hermione glanced around the room before finally looking at Ginny. "I think I like Malfoy."

Ginny didn't move and just stared at her, mouth slightly open. "Are you serious?" She finally asked in a strained voice.

Hermione nodded and tried to swallow the lump that had formed in her throat. "And I'm just so _bloody_ confused right now."  
>Ginny jumped at her outburst – Hermione never swore! "Just see how things … pan out. It'll all come together, don't worry." She murmured and embraced her best friend comfortingly.<p>

"I hope so," Hermione mumbled into her shoulder. They sat like that for a few moments before getting up and going back into the kitchen.

The food was made quickly and at six o'clock they started the barbeque. Harry and George decided that was their forte and insisted that they take over from Mrs Weasley. The air was warm and Hermione went over to sit on the white garden swing hanging underneath one of the Weasley's numerous trees. She closed her eyes and was humming to herself a soft lullaby that her mother used to sing, when she felt someone sit next to her.

"Hi," A voice said huskily and Hermione opened her eyes slowly to smile gently at Ron.

"Hello," She replied suddenly feeling at ease around him. Maybe it was the talk that she had with Ginny. Perhaps she just needed to get some things off her chest.

"Nice evening," He remarked, kicking the ground softly to get the swing moving. "Have you thought about er, what I said?"

Hermione made a non-committal jerk with her head. "A little." She closed her eyes again and rested her head against the back of the swing.

He didn't say anything for a moment but she heard him take a sharp breath. "Oh, Hermione, you truly are beautiful."

This disturbed her peace and she looked at him in shock. "Ron!"

"You _are_, Hermione, you really are!" He took her hand and cupped it between both of his. "Please, can we give it another go? Please? Just to see if we can make it work this time."

Hermione was speechless. Did Ron and Ginny have some kind of weird brotherly-sisterly inner-mind connection thing going on? Did Ginny _know_ that he was going to ask her? Is that why she had suggested it to her earlier? She blinked at the red-headed man next to her and took in his pleading blue eyes, his soft mouth turning into a small frown, the creases on his forehead distorting his fair skin. How could she say no? How could she say _yes_? The face of Draco Malfoy suddenly popped into her mind and she sucked in a breath. She was still utterly and truly confused.

"Hermione?" He breathed, clutching her hands tighter.

She realised that she had just been staring at him whilst he was waiting for an answer and without thinking anymore she murmured, "Okay."

**Thank you all very much for your reviews so far! Hope you're enjoying it, and also thank you to my beta - GiantInflatableWalrus! **


	5. Chapter 5

_**Disclaimer: I own nothing - all JKR's! **_

_Chapter 5_

Today was the day - Hermione was packed and ready to leave for Hogwarts. She had awoken on the 31st of August feeling so nervous that her stomach was in danger of bringing up last night's meal. Packing last minute things and making sure Crookshanks was safely in his cage, Hermione had double checked windows and doors before setting wards around her home. She was now standing in her fireplace, luggage in one hand and floo powder in the other. Glancing around her living room once more and realising that she wasn't going to set foot in this house for another year, she slowly counted to three and then shakily cried out, "The Three Broomsticks!"

In a whirl of green flames, Hermione arrived in a small room off the main area of the Inn. She guessed that Madame Rosmerta had heard her come through or she already knew she was coming, but either way she greeted her with a warm smile and offered her a drink.

"No, I won't today, thanks. I'll come back soon, I promise!" Hermione assured the barmaid with a nervous laugh and levitated her trunk out of the back door and into a side alley leading onto Hogsmeade. "Thank you!"

She clutched Crookshanks' cage tightly in her hand and she hurried up the street towards Hogwarts. Nostalgia hit her like Grawp and his trees and Hermione sniffled as she trudged up the familiar path. It felt so wrong to be here without Harry and Ron, or any of her school friends for that matter. For the first time in her life, Hermione felt incredibly lonely. Her mind wandered to thoughts of Ron, her _boyfriend_. Her heart sank. Why in heaven's name did she say yes? What was wrong with her? After her agreement, Ron had leapt off the swing to tell his family. Hermione had hesitantly met the eyes of Ginny and Harry and they had both looked at her somewhat sceptically, even if they did try and hide it with a congratulating smile. Ron didn't notice – he never would have done anyway. Hermione sighed heavily and kept her wand trained on her trunk as she continued to walk towards the ever nearing castle. She was going to have to break it off with Ron. She didn't know when, but all she knew was that it was a big mistake their relationship had restarted and it was entirely her fault.

Cursing under her breath, Hermione forced the thoughts to the back of her mind as she approached the huge oak doors of the courtyard. She suddenly realised that she had no idea where to go. Dropping her trunk to the ground, Hermione did the only thing that she could think of and sent her patronus with a message to the headmistress. The last wisps of the otter disappeared and Hermione was once again left alone. She groaned and knocked her head against the door in annoyance but jumped when it suddenly opened.

"Miss Granger," Argus Filch was standing half in the shade so his face looked more ominous and gnarled than before. "How nice … to see you again. The headmistress sent me to take you up to her office."

Hermione smiled tightly at the old squib and went to levitate her trunk when the caretaker stopped her.

"The house elves will take your luggage to your quarters." He snapped his fingers and the creature appeared, wearing its uniform proudly. "Take this to the new professor's bedroom, will you." He instructed with a cough.

The house elf nodded and took her trunk and Crookshanks before disappearing with a loud crack.

Hermione frowned at the wheezing man. "Filch, don't speak to them like that."

He only glared at her with his small eyes before stomping off ahead, leading the way. Hermione then noticed Mrs Norris, her large yellow eyes staring intently at her before she followed her master. There were a few patches of grey on the cat's fur, and Hermione thought the bald patch on Filch's head had expanded since the last time she had seen the pair. She shuddered and joined them as they went through the familiar classrooms and up the moving staircases to the seventh floor. Many of the hundreds of portraits around the castle recognised the member of the Golden Trio and welcomed her warmly back into Hogwarts. The castle was strange without any children rushing about – there were no yells, no muffled explosions, no scolding from a passing professor. Only the resounding echoes of the portraits and the staircases moving into positions were heard through the school.

They reached the seventh floor where the gargoyle remained unmoving until Filch uttered the password. "Dumbledore."

Hermione gave a small smile to herself when she heard the old headmaster's name, but she felt a pang of sadness as they moved up the spiral staircase. There would be no more Fawkes on the perch, no more interesting, whirring objects.

As Filch knocked on the door to announce their presence, Hermione suddenly got very cross with herself. Where was all this negativity coming from? What was wrong with her today? This was exciting – a new job back in Hogwarts! Yes, Dumbledore was gone, yes, Harry and Ron weren't with her, and yes, there were no children, but there would be tomorrow. And she was a grown woman for goodness sake; she didn't need Harry or Ron beside her every time she went somewhere! She felt much better after mentally pulling herself together and a smile wound itself onto her face as they stepped into the bright office of Minerva McGonagall.

"Hermione, how are you?" The lady, dressed in the same tartan and her hair pulled into the same bun that Hermione remembered, smiled at the new, young professor and gestured to the chair in front of the huge desk. "Thank you, Filch, you may go now."

Hermione nodded her thanks to the caretaker who muttered something incomprehensible and disappeared back down the stairs, Mrs Norris hot on his heels.

"I trust you had a pleasant journey?" McGonagall peered through her spectacles at Hermione and pressed her fingers together.

"Yes, I flooed to the Three Broomsticks and then walked up here." She explained quickly.

McGonagall nodded and then flicked her eyes to the office door as if she were expecting someone. "So, Hermione, you will have the same office that I had on the first floor." She paused. "I know this will be incredibly unexpected but I must assure you that I've given it careful consideration. I would like you to become the new Head of Gryffindor House."

Hermione stared, lost for words, at the taut face of the headmistress. In no way was she displaying any signs of joking. "P-professor, I-I don't know what to say!"

"Call me Minerva, please, we're colleagues now." Her mouth twitched. "And how about yes? You see, as it turns out, none of the professors are really up for the job. We've had Aurora Sinistra but frankly, I think you'd be better suited."

Hermione settled back into her chair and swallowed. "I don't … I mean, are you sure? I haven't even been teaching yet and …"

"Hermione," The headmistress interrupted firmly. "If I didn't know you, then of course I wouldn't ask you. But the fact is, I _do_ you know you and I know you _will_ do a fabulous job."

Hermione blinked and then nodded slowly. "Okay, I'll do it, pr- I mean Minerva."

"Excellent," McGonagall flashed a quick smile before suddenly turning serious again. "You will have my old sleeping quarters near the Gryffindor tower – you can decorate it as you please – so I trust you know the way. I assume you remember where the Transfiguration classroom is?"

"First floor, two doors down from yo-_my _office." Hermione responded automatically.

McGonagall nodded and then cleared her throat. "Now, one last thing," She glanced at the door again and looked slightly impatient. "We had a new Potions professor join us last year and I think you'll find him somewhat familiar. I've asked him to my office so he should be arriving soon."

Hermione had an uneasy feeling about where the older woman was heading. She twisted around in her seat to stare at the office door as she heard footsteps climbing the stairs.

"Ah, here he is." McGonagall opened the door with her wand before the man could knock. "Mr Malfoy, do come in."

Hermione froze in her chair as the blond haired man smirked at her before strolling over to stand beside her. "Hello, Hermione."

She could not believe it. Draco Malfoy was the Potions professor at Hogwarts. After all their conversations they had had recently, he hadn't thought to mention that she would be working with him very soon? And, as she met his eyes, she hated to see that he looked even more handsome than usual.

"M-Malfoy?" She managed to splutter out before whirling around in her chair to face the headmistress. "Why didn't you tell me before?"

McGonagall eyed her sharply. "I've told you now, Miss Granger, and I trust you aren't going to resign before you've even had your first day because one of your colleagues is an old school rival?"

Hermione blushed and slumped back into her chair. "No, no, of course not, I'm just in shock."

"Don't know what's so bad about this, Hermione. It's not like we haven't seen each other in a while. I only just saw you last week." Malfoy said cheerily, sitting on the armrest of Hermione's chair.

She glared at him. _Yes, with that stupid woman. _

"Oh, perfect." McGonagall stood up and began to show them out. "Yes, and Mr Malfoy is also head of Slytherin, before I forget. I think you two will get along wonderfully with your new positions."

Hermione almost fainted as she got up from the chair and she glanced worriedly at the confident figure of Draco Malfoy. "Really?" She squeaked.

"Yes, so you'll have to try and promote some kind of inter-house unity. Anyway, I'll see you at dinner tonight at seven, and then bright and early tomorrow morning for the beginning of term." The headmistress shooed them out of her office and promptly shut the door with a snap.

Hermione began to hurry down the spiral staircase with Draco following her calmly. The gargoyle hopped aside and she stormed down the corridor towards the Gryffindor tower where she knew her room was somewhere nearby. Annoyingly, Draco Malfoy seemed to be following her very calmly and when she had stopped outside of the portrait of the sleeping Fat Lady unsure of where to go, he caught up with her.

"What's the matter with you?" He asked, completely amused.

"Nothing," she snapped irritably. "Why are you following me?"

He raised an eyebrow at her tone. "What happened to the lovely Hermione Granger I invited to the ball?"

She softened slightly and turned to look at him sheepishly. "I just didn't expect you to be here. How come you never told me after I said I was teaching Transfiguration?"

Draco shifted uncomfortably and mumbled something that Hermione couldn't quite catch.

"Sorry?" She asked again, trying to catch his averted gaze.

"I said you wouldn't want to work here if you knew." He finally said bluntly. "Be honest, Hermione, don't try and deny it."

She didn't say anything and Draco took that as a silent agreement.

"See," He said bitterly and scowled. "I don't understand it. I don't get _why _you and your buddies find it so difficult to move on."

"Malfoy, if that was the case do you honestly think I would have gone to your ball?" She countered angrily. How dare he accuse her of _not moving on_?

He was about to answer when she interrupted him. "And if you even dare to _think_ that Harry and Ron haven't then you are sorely mistaken! They were fine when I told them about the invitation!"

"You had to ask them? Weren't you _allowed_ to go if you didn't?" Draco taunted. "If they said no, what would you have done?" He challenged, trying to hide the sneer on his face.

She opened her mouth but no sound came out. She couldn't answer his question and he knew that as he smirked triumphantly. Sending him the dirtiest look she had ever given him, Hermione turned on her heel and marched off in no clear direction.

_This first day is going extremely well,_ she thought sarcastically as she continued to circle the seventh floor. Thankfully, she didn't run into Malfoy again and she screamed aloud in frustration when she just came to the Fat Lady again. This was so stupid! Where was the bloody room?

"Everything alright, dear?" The Fat Lady had sleepily opened one eye and was looking concerned at the new professor.

"I can't find my new quarters. They were where McGonagall used to sleep – I've taken up her old position, you see." She explained tiredly.

The portrait stretched and then pointed towards the left. "Continue down there and there's a picture of Lady Pickleby and her three cats. That's the doorway."

Hermione looked as if she could kiss the Fat Lady and she hurried away in the direction she was told. As she approached the painting, the three cats pawed at their mistress and she glanced down at the woman in front of her. "Yes? Password?"

"Er," Hermione paused. "I don't know."

"Well, that's no use then is it. I can't let you in, I'm afraid." The thin woman stroked the small tabby on her lap and stared haughtily at Hermione.

"No one's told me what it is! I'm the new Head of Gryffindor – I only arrived today." Hermione was close to tears. This was the worst first day of her life and all she wanted to do was to crawl into bed and cry.

"Oh, why didn't you say?" The woman brightened. "You can choose your new password now, if you like."

Relief flooded through Hermione and she thought for a while before deciding on, "Beedle the Bard."

The portrait swung open and Hermione climbed up a staircase similar to the one of the headmistresses and was welcomed with a large, comfortable room. She beamed at her surroundings – three plush sofas circled a large fireplace and a huge bookcase donned the opposite side of the room. Straight ahead of her was a tall window with views over the Quidditch pitch and two large armchairs sat facing each other. The colours were warm and welcoming – the traditional red and gold of Gryffindor. Laughing happily to herself, Hermione rushed to a door on the right of the room which led to a magnificent bathroom, complete with a tub the size of the prefects'. She closed the door and went over to the other doorway, skipping as she went. Here was a grand four poster bed with so many pillows Hermione couldn't wait to lie on them. It was on a small raised platform and Hermione spotted her things sitting by a red sofa. Crookshanks was glaring at her resentfully – he didn't appreciate being stuck in his cage for several hours. She let him out quickly and he scurried off to explore.

Sighing contentedly to herself, Hermione forgot all thoughts about Malfoy and Ron as she threw herself on her bed and fell asleep.

* * *

><p>Something hairy was tickling Hermione's lower lip and for one petrifying moment she thought it was a large spider. Scrambling off the bed, she only succeeded in making Crookshanks hiss at her for being disturbed. She pulled a ginger hair off her lip and glared at her cat in return. Hermione checked her watch and almost screamed when it read ten-to-seven.<p>

"Crap, crap, crap." She caught her reflection in a floor-to-ceiling mirror and groaned when her hair was all dishevelled and her make-up smudged. "Thank Merlin for magic."  
>Whipping out her wand, she muttered some incantations and her hair became less tangled and more controlled, her makeup was removed and her perfume zoomed out of her trunk as she <em>Accio'ed<em> it with her wand. She thought she had better change into robes and she quickly threw on some black ones she had bought the other day in Diagon Alley. Only half satisfied with her appearance, Hermione left her room and went down to the Great Hall.

To say it was awkward when Hermione caught Malfoy's eye was an understatement. She ignored him as she went to sit at the professors' table at the top of the Hall and Hermione gazed around at the empty, cavernous room. It was strange, again, seeing all this but from a completely different perspective. Hermione was sat near the end of the table and she glanced down and noticed that not all the professors were there. Only professor Sprout, Trelawney and the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher (who Hermione didn't know the name of) sat on the other side of the headmistress. McGonagall caught her questioning glance and answered her with a smile, "Most of them arrive tomorrow, Hermione. I wanted to get you settled here and thought Mr Malfoy would help you with that. Do come and sit closer."

She reluctantly moved up towards Minerva McGonagall and, unfortunately, Draco Malfoy. She decided to sit one space away from Malfoy, and therefore received a fairly irritated look from the old Transfiguration professor.

"As well as being unable to move on, you're obviously fairly childish." Hermione heard Draco mumble from her left and she glared at him. However, she saw he was smirking and there was a little twinkle in his eye. "I'm sorry about earlier, Granger."

"Huh, back to Granger are we?" She asked, trying her hardest to remain annoyed with him.

He shrugged and cut up some of his steak. "You call me Malfoy still."

"Oh, well, sorry. I'll remember next time."

He chuckled lightly and gestured to the spot beside him. "Move up. You look really stupid."

Hermione stared affronted and then ignored the blond man. The blond _handsome_ man. _No, Hermione, you did not just say that! You have a boyfriend!_ She was horrified at her internal thoughts and almost choked on her pumpkin juice.

"So," he began again, conceding to the fact that she wasn't going to move. "I heard about you and Weasley."

This time she did choke and a couple of the professors glanced at her amused. "How?" She asked in a strangled voice.

"I have my ways." He said ambiguously and then admitted the truth after Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Fine, my mother and Rita Skeeter are pretty good friends. And I wouldn't worry about it; the majority of people already know."

"But how did she find out?" She was shocked. She was under the impression that their relationship was on the down-low still. This was when it was a complete pain in the arse to be famous.

Draco shrugged and continued eating. "I dunno. Anyway, didn't you go out before?"

"Yeah, we did." Hermione sighed as the whole situation was brought back to her mind. "I ended it. Well, it was kind of mutual as we saw that it wasn't really going anywhere…"

"What's changed now?" Draco murmured, and half turned towards her.

She hesitated before answering. Should she divulge her thoughts and feelings to a man she barely knew? She didn't have to say a lot … just a few things. Right? "He still liked me and asked me if we could try again. So I said yes."

The blond haired man smirked at her. "But you didn't _want_ to say yes, did you?"

"That," She pointed a finger at him. "Is something that you are not privy to."

He snorted but turned back to his food anyway. "Okay, sure, whatever. Are you looking forward to tomorrow?"

The rest of the supper passed quickly and she had a pleasant conversation with Draco Malfoy. He was an intelligent young man and Hermione was surprised when she discovered this after talking to him. When they were both at Hogwarts, Hermione never remembered him ever excelling in many of his classes, but then again, they had only shared a couple.

Draco had just been sharing about his experience of working at Hogwarts for the past year, when Hermione noticed that they were all alone.

"Do you fancy taking a stroll around the school grounds? It'll be nice before all the students are here." Hermione suggested, rising from her seat.

Draco suddenly looked really awkward. "Oh, er, I don't think that'd be a good idea."

She frowned and sat back down again, deflated. "Why not?"

"Because people would get the wrong idea." He himself then stood up. "I'll see you tomorrow morning, Hermione. It was fun talking to you, good night."

She sat there and watched as he moved around the table and then started to leave the Great Hall.

"Mal- Draco wait!" She hurried to her feet and jogged after him. "What the hell do you mean by that?"

He turned around to look at her worried face before sighing. "Hermione, you're with the dick-head ginger-boy."

"Please don't call him that. And so what? Just because we go for a stroll doesn't mean there's something going on! People can be _friends_." Hermione rolled her eyes at Draco and stomped her foot in frustration. "Who's going to think that there is something going on anyway? There's no one here."

"That's not the point." He replied flatly. "I don't want to put ourselves in that position."

"What position, Draco?" She asked incredulously, flailing her arms.

"Hermione, what do you think people will imagine when they see a man and a woman taking a midnight stroll together and one of them is in a relationship?"

"Hmm, oh, I know. Two friends having a chat! Oh, no, that means they're sleeping with each other!" Hermione gasped mockingly and covered her mouth in pretend outrage. "Seriously, Draco, I don't see the problem in taking a walk."

"I just don't feel comfortable with it." He shrugged and tried to move away, but she grabbed his arm.

"What do you mean? I'm not going to pounce on you or anything." She laughed awkwardly and added internally: _Though I really would love to_._ No! Bad Hermione!_

"Ha," He grimaced. "I think it's for the best. It was good earlier though, Hermione."

"Since when did you become so noble? I thought that was a Gryffindor trait." Hermione sneered, all joking aside.

"I guess I've been hanging around with one for too long." He smiled wryly and left Hermione standing in the Great Hall looking bewildered.

Did he mean her? If so, that comment was incredibly flawed – Hermione had only met him once or twice in the past three months. She couldn't have had that much of an effect on him, could she? Hermione almost got lost in the numerous corridors with her mind completely elsewhere. Unfortunately, it wasn't on thoughts of her boyfriend but rather of Draco Malfoy. When she finally got into her bed, she looked at Crookshanks and said aloud, "I really am in a pickle, aren't I?"

His large eyes only stared at her in return before he purred and settled down into the covers next to her. She absent-mindedly stroked his head as she continued to think. Hermione was wide awake and it was half-past nine. She had an early start the next day and her mind with its busy thoughts wasn't helping her drift into the land of Nod. Groaning aloud, she rolled over in her bed to stare at her pet. "What do I do? I need to break it off with Ron, but I fear it's because of the wrong reasons."

Crookshanks gazed sleepily at her before yawning and closing his eyes.

She continued, "At first it was because I knew it was wrong, but now I think it's because I like Draco."

The cat didn't stir and Hermione looked grumpily at the ginger fur ball.

"You're meant to help me, here. Look at you – you have it so easy being a cat. Or rather, a half-kneazle." She pouted and closed her eyes. "I wish I was a half-kneazle."

**_Hi! I hope you liked this chapter - I had fun writing it! Please, please PLEASE review, I'd love to know your thoughts! And thanks for all those who have previously reviewed too, as well as thank you to my beta! She does a wonderful job!_**

**_ANDDDDDDDD, I'm actually going on holiday on Saturday for about three weeks so I don't know if there will be any internet! If there is, I will try my hardest to upload a chapter, but no guarantees! I will be writing when I'm there anyway, so if I don't mange to upload whilst I'm on holiday, you'll hopefully have several chapters up in quick succession! Anyway, thank youuuuuuuuuuuu! _**


	6. Chapter 6

**_Disclaimer: I own nothing!_**

**_Warning - some strong language._**

_Chapter 6_

Hermione's wand let off a shrieking wail at 7.30 am. She groaned and shook it to turn off the alarm and then yawned noisily, rolling out of bed in the process. She stomped into her large bathroom and perked up slightly when she realised she could use the gigantic tub. Turning on all twelve taps, the bubbles gushed out and filled the bath fairly quickly. A wonderful mixture of aromas filled the room and she hummed happily to herself as she hopped in, disappearing under the foam and enjoying the warmth as she slowly woke up.

"Crookshanks," She called as she washed her hair. "Come and have a look at this!"

She was perched on a little ledge in the tub and she pushed herself off it, treading water and waiting for her cat to appear. The half-kneazle arrived with hesitation – he wasn't very fond of water and he hissed when Hermione flicked some bubbles in his direction. Laughing to herself, Hermione swam through the bubbly water before reluctantly leaving and getting ready for her first teaching day at Hogwarts.

The familiar nervousness that she had felt leading up to yesterday was fast returning, and Hermione wondered if she could stomach breakfast. She shakily got dressed and dried her hair before feeding Crookshanks with some food the house elves had kindly brought up. She double checked the time – half past eight – before making her way down the nostalgic path to the Great Hall. She met no other professors on her way down and when she arrived, only Malfoy, McGonagall and Sprout were there.

"Good morning, Hermione, did you sleep well?" The headmistress inquired, peering over her spectacles as she approached the professors' table.

"Yes, I did, very well in fact – thank you." Hermione smiled warmly at her old Transfiguration teacher and sat down beside Malfoy. "Good morning."

"Morning," he mumbled in return, buttering his toast. "This day is probably the most tiring – I'll warn you now."

"Thanks." Hermione reached to pour herself some pumpkin juice before continuing. "Listen, about last night … sorry, you were right."

He shrugged. "I know."

Pursing her lips, she decided to ignore that comment. "But I still don't think there's any harm in us … _interacting_ as such."

"I guess," Draco replied taking a bite of his jam covered toast.

"So, what happens now?" Hermione attempted to steer the conversation away. "With the day, I mean."

He swallowed. "We just prepare the classrooms, y'know, and last minute stuff."

She nodded and they fell into silence. The rest of the professors arrived soon after Hermione and the conversation at the table was almost non-existent. There was the occasional murmur of_ "Could you pass the salt, please?" _and the rustle of the Daily Prophet but otherwise it seemed quite strained. Hermione was glad to get back to her room, but it wasn't long before she was called down to her new classroom by the headmistress's patronus.

"There will be no lessons today, obviously," McGonagall began when she entered. "You can change things to how you please in here."  
>Hermione nodded; she was unsure as to why McGonagall was telling her this when she could have done the day before.<p>

The headmistress hesitated. "Hermione, forgive me if I may be intruding, but I still feel that the relationship between you and Mr Malfoy is still somewhat … awkward."

Hermione did not expect that. The Minerva was looking fairly concerned and she almost reached out to place a hand on her arm. "Oh, well, you know, things always are between two old school enemies!" She tried to make the whole thing as nonchalant as possible.

McGonagall didn't look satisfied with her answer. "Yes, but it's very important that the students don't recognise this."

She frowned. Surely not _all_ colleagues got along with one another. "I guess, but it won't make a difference to them. I don't mean to be rude, but you and Snape never saw eye-to-eye."

McGonagall's face tightened and she straightened her robe uncomfortably. "I am very aware of that, but the thing is, it is only three, almost four years after The War and a lot of the students remember the, er, unfortunate parts concerning you two."

It suddenly dawned on Hermione what the headmistress was getting at. It had been a well known fact that Draco Malfoy had been a Death Eater, not to mention being ordered to kill Dumbledore. A feeling of shame and sadness overwhelmed Hermione. She had not once bothered to think about how hard it must be for Malfoy to be accepted in the Wizarding society – she wondered how his first couple of weeks teaching here had gone. "Yes, of course, I'm so sorry, Minerva, I just didn't think. I'll try my hardest to show the students the right example."

At this, the headmistress beamed and she began to leave the classroom. "And don't forget inter house unity!"

Hermione laughed as she wagged her finger at her before disappearing around the corner. She looked around at the bare classroom and realised that she should probably get some of her things in there to make it look more welcoming. Hoping that it would work, Hermione _Accio'ed_ some things down from her room that she thought would look nice.

When photos of her friends and family had been placed on the desk amongst several candles, she frowned still unhappy with the effect. She thought back to when she was at school and remembered that McGonagall always had some sort of animal. She almost thought about transporting Crookshanks but decided against it, figuring that he somehow wouldn't be happy being flown mid-air through the castle. One name had popped into her mind and she was shocked that she hadn't already been down to see him. In fact, she was surprised he hadn't been at mealtimes. Rubeus Hagrid never seemed to miss meals except for 'dire' circumstances. She decided to ignore those other occasions where he had not turned up at the Great Hall when she was at Hogwarts.

The thought of visiting him staying firmly in her mind, Hermione left her classroom and made her way down towards Hagrid's cabin. Surprisingly, when she knocked on the door, there was no welcoming bark from Fang and no grunt from Hagrid. She also noticed the absence of smoke coming from the chimney, as well as the curtains being drawn and the lights off. Frowning, Hermione knocked a few more times before coming to the conclusion that he just wasn't there. Fairly disappointed, she wandered back up to the castle very confused and resolved to ask the headmistress when she saw her.

Feeling at a loss of what to do and what to put in her classroom, Hermione went on a tour around the castle. When she reached the seventh floor, she remembered the infamous Room of Requirement. She was curious as to whether it was still there after all the battering it had received from Crabbe's uncontrollable curse. Pausing, she checked the corridor before beginning to walk three times in front of the wall.

"What are you _doing_, Granger?"

Hermione stopped in the middle of her second turn at the sound of Malfoy's voice. "Just … pacing."

"Are you trying to get into the Room of Hidden Things?" He murmured, strolling towards her with his hands in his pockets. He stopped beside her and stretched out his fingers to graze the stone.

"I was wondering if it was still there," mumbled Hermione, wary of bringing up the tender subject.

"After Crabbe's stupidity?" An ugly sneer appeared on his face and he returned his hands to his pocket. "I checked last year. It is, but only just."

"What do you mean?" She couldn't help the fear that entered her voice.

He turned away and started to walk back down the corridor, forcing Hermione to trail after him if she wanted a reply. "Say, like Longbottom did, you wanted a room to sleep in. You walk, you ask, you go in, but not everything would be there or not everything would be correct."

"So, instead of a bed it would be a…" She hesitated, trying to think of an object. "A bookcase?"

He gave a sad smile. "Not quite. It's hard to explain. For example, half the wall could be missing or there could be a greenhouse in the middle. I don't know! I'll just have to show you one day!" He added when Hermione snorted.

They had reached one of the staircases leading down to the fifth floor. They began descending in silence when Hermione thought she would ask Malfoy about the Gamekeeper.

"Draco, where's Hagrid?"

"That big oaf?" He back-tracked when she punched him in the shoulder. "Ow! Sorry, that really nice guy who's illiterate? I think he's abroad somewhere."

"_Abroad_?" she asked, taken aback. Hagrid didn't take holidays, did he? "Where?"

Draco shrugged. "I dunno. I think McGonagall said something about France, though."

_Ahh_, Hermione thought with a small smile. _Madame Maxine_. "Is he coming back this year?"

"I don't think so. It must be some kind of sabbatical he's doing. Hopefully some decent professor will be able to replace him for a year."

"Draco, if you gave him a chance you'd realise that he's a wonderful professor. Yes, he's made some mistakes in the past but everyone does." Scolded Hermione lightly.

"Right," he nodded his head but she knew he wasn't going to do anything about it. "He'll be back next year so don't worry your pretty little head about it."

She pursed her lips together to stop herself from giggling. "Pretty?"

Draco stopped and pulled a face at her. "You know what I mean; it's a figure of speech!"

"So you don't think I'm pretty?" She teased, pouting her lips.

"Yeah, I mean, no. Hermione, you're with Weasel." He hastily began to walk on again, searching for a main staircase.

"You think I'm pretty!" Hermione exclaimed, laughing. She stopped when his face transformed into a snarl. "Relax, Draco, I'm only messing around. And anyway, I'm not _married_ to him – we've only been going out a week." She rolled her eyes as she followed him around.

"Still."

"Still what?" Hermione was thoroughly enjoying getting on Draco's nerves.

He quickened his pace as he caught a glimpse of some moving stairs. "People shouldn't see us alone and stuff, they'd get the wrong impression."

They had reached the top of the staircase when Hermione stopped, her mood dampened. "Draco, when are you going to stop worrying about what everybody else thinks? We know there's nothing going on; it's _their_ problem if they imagine that there is."

He mumbled something incoherent halfway down the stairs. It began to move and Hermione jumped onto the first step so they could continue the conversation.

"What did you say?" She asked gently.

"I said it's hard when people never give you a chance." He spat bitterly, turning away from the woman behind him. He willed the steps to move faster so the conversation could end.

Hermione cautiously moved closer to him. "They have," she mumbled quietly.

He only laughed humourlessly in return.

"I mean it, Draco. Do you think that McGonagall would have given you a job otherwise?" She challenged, and she suddenly had an urge to slap him. Slap him out of this stupid mindset that he was in! "You need to stop worrying about it, Draco, and move on!"  
>"I <em>have<em> moved on!" Turning around, he glared at her just as the steps came to a halt. He began to saunter off quickly and his blond head almost disappeared around the next corner before Hermione caught up with him again.

"Not emotionally!" She called out and he whirled round, his mouth turned down into a snarl and his silver eyes flashing furiously.

"What do _you_ know, Granger? You know _nothing_ about me. Absolutely _nothing_. So don't you _dare_ try and give me some kind of … _counselling_." He spat the word like he did when he called her a mudblood in their schooldays.

Hermione shrank under his gaze and said nothing as he stormed away. She guessed she thoroughly deserved that treatment and guilt tugged at her insides, pressuring her to run after him to apologise.

"So much for giving students the right message," she said aloud to herself, glumly. Walking in the opposite direction, she made her way back down to her new classroom where she sat at her desk and rested her head against the dark wood.

"Students will be arriving soon," McGonagall was standing near the entrance to the Great Hall. "Aurora, please get ready to welcome the first years. For the rest of us, take your places up on the table."

It was now nearing six o'clock and Hermione had been battling with herself all afternoon. When she'd been asked to come down here not long ago, she had tried to catch Draco's eye but he firmly stood out of her way. She was hurt, but she knew she hurt him and Hermione hated that feeling. Sending a desperate glance at him which was only received by the back of his head, Hermione sat at the table between Professors Sprout and Trelawney, the latter a woman she had no time for. She hesitantly peered down the rest of the table to her left and Draco was sat as far away as possible from her. There were still numerous places to be filled and she assumed that the rest of the professors would be arriving with the students.

"Ahh, Miss Granger, I see you have joined our ranks." A dreamy voice came from beside her and Hermione only nodded curtly in return.

"It was a shame you left my class so early," Trelawney continued, trying to make eye contact through her large spectacles. "But you did have a rather small aura."

"Hmm, shame," she replied stiffly, opening her mouth to begin a conversation with the Herbology Professor beside her. Before she could speak, however, clattering footsteps echoed throughout the cavernous room and Argus Filch lead a mass of black robes into the hall. Their chattering quietened as the students noted the professors and they each took their place in their respective Houses when the hubbub began to build again as they spoke to their friends across the tables.

Hermione smiled down at the view before her, all previous negative thoughts brushed to one side as she remembered the feeling of stepping back into school again, being in Hogwarts surrounded by magic. The vacant chairs at the professor's table had been filled and Hermione noticed Professor Grubbly-Plank with a sinking feeling – Draco had obviously been correct about Hagrid's absence.

She stared sadly at the ceiling with its magnificent floating candles and sighed, her thoughts returning filled with the presence of Draco Malfoy. She was so engrossed that she almost didn't notice the tiny first years entering the Great Hall, their worried faces taking in the large surroundings.

Aurora Sinistra halted the line and the whole hall fell silent. The Sorting Hat had opened its mouth and was about to break into song. Hermione, however, was not paying attention.

"_Now not too long ago,_

_There was a great big war…"_

She had to apologise to Draco soon. She hated the bickering between them.

"…_we are all united,_

_Why should there be fights?"_

She hadn't even spoken to him for that long and they'd already fought. It was ridiculous.

"…_for the proud and haughty,_

_And those who work alone…"_

But what about the whole situation with Ron anyway? She was an emotional mess; s_he_ needed the counselling.

"…_those who are very loyal,_

_Will always try their best…"_

She wasn't trying her best at all. She _had_ to sort everything out. Soon.

"…_find out where you are,_

_Just place me on your head!"_

The raucous applause broke Hermione from her thoughts and she hurriedly clapped, leaning forward around professors to catch Draco's eye. He glanced at her and she tried to mouth an apology but he had already looked away. _Git_.

The Astronomy Professor had begun to call out the first year's names and one by one they were each sorted into Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw or Slytherin. When Sinistra had taken her place, McGonagall stood up to address the hall. The rumbling of voices fell to a silence only broken by the occasional murmur.

"Welcome, everyone, to another new school year at Hogwarts. Before you dig in to your food, I have several important announcements to make." She paused and looked around before continuing, her glasses flashing in the candlelight. "We have two new professors this year – Professor Grubbly-Plank who will be taking Care of Magical Creatures whilst professor Hagrid is away, and, who I'm sure you all recognise, Professor Granger who is teaching Transfiguration."

The hushed voices broke into loud shouts of exclamation and faces craned to see one of the Golden Trio up at the table. Hermione blushed and looked down at her plate, still not used to all of the attention.

The headmistress carried on. "Professor Granger is also the new Head of Gryffindor House and I trust she will do very well. Everyone else will know, but for the first years, the Forbidden Forest is out of bounds. That covers about everything, so enjoy your meal."

When she sat back down the hall burst into chatter again as the food suddenly appeared on the plates. As she filled her glass with pumpkin juice, Hermione noticed the Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor that she still didn't know the name of. Determined not to talk to the Divination Professor beside her, Hermione queried Sprout.

"His name is Jacques, Jacques Weaver." The Herbologist whispered in her ear smelling strongly of earth. "He's very good actually, very charming too."

Hermione studied the dark haired man and his chiselled, pale face and came to the conclusion that he was fairly good looking. His nose was almost straight – the imperfection being a slight bend in the middle – and his lips were full. She imagined he had a nice smile. Jacques caught her staring and she looked away hurriedly, a red blush staining her cheeks. _Staring at a handsome man and then getting caught is probably one of the most embarrassing things_, she thought to herself, jabbing a fork into her salad. _Ugh, and I'm still with Ron! What am I doing?_

It was then that she had made her decision. She had to end it with Ron. A heavy weight which she didn't seem to be aware of before was suddenly lifted from her heart, and she knew then that it was the right choice. When and how she didn't know.

The first supper at Hogwarts passed by quickly and before she knew it, McGonagall was ordering the Prefects to lead the first years to their dormitories. As the students filed out, Hermione stood up and stretched, her body stuffed from the meal. She turned to leave and follow the other professors when she felt a light touch on her arm.

"Excuse me; I don't believe we've been introduced." It was Jacques. He was actually rather tall and Hermione had been correct – his smile was rather nice. She also thought she could hear a trace of an accent, possibly French.

She shook her head. "No, we haven't. I'm Hermione Granger, the new Transfiguration Professor."

"Jacques Weaver, but just call me Jack, it's easier."

They began to leave the hall together, chatting freely and easily. Out of the corner of Hermione's eye, she spied Draco Malfoy glance sullenly in her direction. She felt bad for not using this chance to apologise to him, but she didn't want to stop talking to Jacques.

"Did you go to Hogwarts then?" Hermione decided to ignore the attractive blond man and focus on the equally handsome fellow beside her.

"No, I actually went to Beauxbatons. My mother was French, my father English and we lived in London until I was ten. My mother wanted me to go there so we moved to France and then I came back six years ago after completing school." He explained as they strolled towards the marble staircase.

"Ooh, I _love_ France," She gushed happily, her eyes glittering. "So I guess you learnt French from a young age?"

Jack nodded. "My mother made sure to teach me it. Do you know much?"

"A little, but not a lot." Hermione looked down at her feet, a little embarrassed.

He chuckled. "Go on, say something to me."

"I can't, I'm too scared_._"

"Don't be silly, what of?" he touched her on the shoulder and she blushed like a little school girl.

"You'll laugh." She replied, certain that he would.

"I won't, I promise."

"Fine." She paused. "_Je_ _voudrais habiter en France, un jour, parce que j'aime la cuisine et les gens_."

"That was brilliant!" He clapped his hands and laughed, brown eyes lighting up. "Anyway, I must go to bed, my quarters are down here." He gestured down to a second floor corridor which they had climbed up to.

"Okay," she mumbled, a little disappointed. "See you tomorrow morning!"

He nodded and smiled before leaving to his room. Hermione started to continue to climb the steps up to the seventh floor when she was stopped by an angry hiss. She frowned, one hand placed on her wand before peering around a stone gargoyle on the banister of the marble staircase.

"Draco?" She was extremely surprised to see the blond man crouched in the shadows. "What are you doing?"

"Flirting with other guys are we?" He scowled at her angrily.

"Excuse me?" She couldn't believe where he was going with this. And she was going to apologise to him! Fat chance of that now.

"I don't like the look of him, never have." He growled quietly. "If you get involved with him and he hurts you, don't come crying to me."

She spluttered, unable to speak with outrage.

"And you better break it off with Weasel before you start frolicking about!" He continued, backing down the stairs.

"Fuck you." She spat coldly.

Draco didn't say anything but marched off into the darkness, leaving Hermione on her own on the marble staircase.

Lying in bed unable to get to sleep, Hermione kept replaying the conversation in her mind. What a cheeky, slimy bastard that Malfoy was. Why should he tell her what to do when he was barely friends with her? She did not feel any better after swearing at Malfoy and in fact, it probably made her feel a whole lot worse. Now her anger had subsided a little, she realised that she was no closer to getting back on track with him than before. She had royally messed this one up.

With the clock reading twenty-to-twelve, Hermione rolled over in bed unable to get to sleep. One thing stuck out in her mind, and that was Ron. At first she was sure that she should end it with him because of her developing feelings for Malfoy. Now that was finished, Hermione still had a nagging feeling that she shouldn't let it carry on. She had found herself being attracted to Jacques and Malfoy, even more so than she had been to Ron. Clearly there was something wrong in that.

Hermione gave up in trying to sleep and decided to write a letter to Ron explaining everything. Well, maybe not _everything_, but the majority. She went over to a writing desk in her lounge space and stared at the piece of parchment before her. No words sprang to mind and she twiddled the quill between her fingers, thinking. Eventually, she slowly began to write.

_Ron,_

_I have sat here at my desk for a while trying to think of ways to begin and to explain. But there is no easy way to say this and I feel awful in writing to you rather than speaking face to face. The fact is I don't think we should stay together. I am so, so sorry in saying yes in the first place which was a very silly mistake. It would have saved a lot of misery and confusion. _

_There is nothing that you can do to change my mind for I know that this is the right decision for the both of us. You may not agree straight away but I hope that in the long run you will realise. I don't want this to ruin our friendship and I hope that we can remain firm friends. Please don't think badly of me. _

_Hermione._

Without realising, she had begun to cry. Not because she was breaking up with Ron after one week of being together, but because of the entire situation. She _hated_ knowing that she was hurting someone; she _hated_ knowing that she was too proud for her own good and she _hated_ knowing that she did still have feelings for that stupid blond haired Slytherin.

**_Hey, hope you liked that! Sorry it's been slow - tough to get internet on holiday! Please review and thank you to those who already have and to my beta, GiantInflatableWalrus!_**


	7. Chapter 7

**_Disclaimer: all belongs to JK Rowling. _**

**_Hello! Really sorry about the slow update but I'm back from my holiday now so it should be fairly regular again! _**

_Chapter 7_

Waking up abruptly at seven o'clock, Hermione's excitement overpowered the other emotions she had been feeling the night before. It was even better considering that she felt a huge weight had been lifted from her shoulders in sending that letter to Ron, making her certain that it was the correct decision. She had taken a midnight stroll to the owlery to use one of the school birds and it gave her a chance to sort out her own thoughts. She had been thoroughly confused by Draco's behaviour and had come to the conclusion that he was secretly _jealous_. She had no idea why as there was nothing going on between them – the only contact they had which could imply they had was at the ball. She had been no clearer when she returned to her room, but she had felt marginally better with herself after deciding that she wasn't going to do anything about Malfoy. If he wanted to further their relationship – which she secretly hoped – then he had to make the first move. However, she doubted that he had any feelings for her whatsoever aside from pure friendliness, and he even had trouble in showing that to her.

She got up and took a shower feeling anxious yet happy about the day ahead. After drying herself, she fed Crookshanks and got dressed into her new robes. They still smelt of the shop and felt a little stiff on her shoulders but she slipped her wand into her pocket and made her way down to the Great Hall. She was early and only a few teachers were there, two of them being Jack and Draco sat at complete opposites of the table. Completely ignoring Malfoy with an idea forming in her mind, she went over to sit next to Jack.

"Good morning," she said glumly pouring herself some tea.

The Frenchman frowned slightly and put down the_ Daily Prophet_ which he had been reading. "Hello, Hermione. Everything alright?"

She shook her head, munching on some toast. "Well," She began loudly, glancing over her shoulder to see if she had Malfoy's attention. "I broke up with my boyfriend last night."

"You h- oh, I'm sorry, Hermione. How long had you been together?" Jack rubbed her shoulder consolingly.

"It wasn't that long, but we had gone out before and he wanted to try it again, blah, blah, blah," she rolled her eyes and sneakily stole a look at the Potions Professor down the table. He was looking towards her with shock and what looked like _pleasure _written over his face. _Perfect_.

"Well, you sure you're okay?" Jack had kept his hand on her shoulder and it was now running down her arm soothingly.

"Yeah, I'll be okay … I've got today to look forward to!" Hermione added brightly, smiling warmly at Jack. He really was quite hot.

She was disappointed when his hand left her arm. He turned back to his food. "Yeah, I bet you are! Feeling nervous at all?"

"A little but I'm trying not to think about it." She shrugged, and then added loudly: "Hey, fancy taking a walk around the grounds later on? I _still_ haven't had a proper look around yet and I _really_ want to do it." _If Draco is indeed jealous then this will certainly make him worse._

"Yeah, of course, I'd love to!" Jack beamed at her. "Lunchtime sound good?"

Hermione couldn't believe how well her little plan had gone. "Sounds perfect."

"Then it's a date," he winked and she blushed.

"A date it is," At this, she turned back to her food which would have given her a better view of Draco if not for the arrival of several new professors for breakfast. Leaning forward slightly, she saw him staring sullenly at his plate pushing his scrambled eggs around with his fork. A slither of guilt washed through her and she ignored it, remembering the way he had followed her and Jack the night before. She came to the conclusion that he probably _was_ jealous. The thought made her giggle slightly and Jack and a few other professors sent her questioning glances.

She spotted Professor Sinistra handing out timetables to the students which reminded her to get her own from her bedroom. She excused herself just as more students were arriving and a few gave their friends a nudge and whisper as she walked past them.

Hermione left her room ten minutes later after getting washed and retrieving last minute things. She made her way back down to her new classroom eagerly anticipating her first class with first years. Sitting down at her desk, she began to arrange some of the papers when there was a knock at her door.

"Come in," she called out.

The door opened with a slow creak revealing Draco Malfoy standing there awkwardly.

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "Yes?"

He shuffled forward slightly, his forehead creased with worry. "Hermione, I owe you an apology."

"Too damn right." She agreed sharply. She opened her mouth to carry on and rant but he interrupted.

"I shouldn't have followed you or interfered with your relationships or anything." His usually cool posture was fidgety and he kept putting his hands in and out of his pocket. "So, I'm sorry."

She relaxed her shoulders which she hadn't realised were stiff and smiled hesitantly. "We haven't had a very successful beginning to our friendship, have we?"

"No," he admitted, catching her eye and smirking a little. "Start again?"

Hermione nodded, breathing a silent sigh of relief. "No more fights."

"_Well_," he began shrewdly, "I don't mind the odd squabble now and again. It's good practice to argue with someone intelligent."

She laughed lightly. "Yes, I have to admit that you do sometimes challenge me."

He pulled his old arrogant smirk from their Hogwarts days, but then it faded abruptly as he remembered something. "At breakfast, I couldn't help but overhear you saying to _Jacques_," he sneered at the name, "that you had ended it with Weasel."

She nodded, still smiling brightly. "Yes, and as much as I hate to admit it, part of what you said last night helped me with my decision. I was planning to anyway, but I guess that was the icing on the cake."

"Good, you can do so much better than him anyway."

She pouted. "Ron's lovely, Draco, he just needs to find the right girl."

He rolled his eyes and ran a hand through his blond hair making it look more ruffled and gorgeous. As he opened his mouth to say something else, a loud, nervous chatter of eleven year olds interrupted their conversation. "I'll leave you to it. Good luck, Hermione."

She gave a little wave as he left the classroom, the voices outside diminished to a whisper as the Potions Professor strolled through their midst. She stepped out from behind her desk and reopened the classroom door, smiling at the young faces lined up against the wall. "Come in, guys."

They filed in after her and took their places, whilst Hermione sat on the corner of her desk and looked around.

"I'm Professor Granger," she began once they all had settled. "And welcome to your first lesson at Hogwarts! Now, do any of you know anything about Transfiguration and what it involves?"

She waited and hesitantly, a boy's shaking hand rose into the air. "Yes, Mr…?"

"Price, Donald Price." His pale face blushed a little as he spoke and he scratched his black hair nervously. "Transfiguration is changing objects into something else … right?"

Hermione nodded, "Essentially, yes. Of course, there are several rules but you'll learn about those later on. But well done – what House are you in?"

"H-Hufflepuff." He stammered.

"Ten points to Hufflepuff!" She exclaimed and he smiled shakily, pleased with himself. "In your first year, you won't be doing anything crazy like changing an object into an animal, I'm afraid. _But_, I do have something interesting planned for this lesson …"

The hour passed quickly and the bell signifying the end of the lesson caused her to jump, sparking laughter from some of the students. "No homework today but don't get complacent!" She called out as they left with their oversized bags bouncing on their shoulders.

During a brief twenty minute break, she double checked her timetable and saw, with delight, that she actually had a free slot before lunchtime. She wondered if Jack had one too, and if so, perhaps they could start their 'date' a little early. The thought making her smile, Hermione didn't notice the awaiting seventh years until one of them coughed loudly.

"Oh my goodness, sorry, come on in." She shook her head at her own absent-mindedness and saw with a little disappointment that there were only five of them in the class. "Not many N.E.W.T Transfiguration takers, huh?"

None of them said anything and Hermione thought she recognised a couple of faces from when she was at Hogwarts. Of course, she was only three years older than them – they would have been in fourth year during The War. She pointed at a very pretty student with dark waves of hair pulled into a stylish ponytail on the top of her head. Unfortunately, she appeared the type of girl who knew they were attractive and seemed to exert a great amount of arrogance. "You're in Gryffindor, right?"

"Yes, how did you know?" She seemed genuinely surprised.

"I remember you," Hermione replied, smirking slightly. "I've forgotten your name, though, sorry."

"Daisy Woodward."

"Ahh, yes. How about the rest of you guys? Houses and names?" She asked to the other girl and three boys.

"Callum Cobb, Slytherin."

"Victoria White, Ravenclaw."

"Ravenclaw, Xavier Besting."

"Jimmy Davis, Gryffindor."

Hermione clapped her hands once. "Brilliant, I'll try and remember them as well as I can!"

"Excuse me, Professor, but can I ask you a question about The War?" Jimmy asked, his blond hair flopping over his forehead and almost into his eyes.

"Yeah, go ahead." She sat down behind her desk and leaned back into her chair.

He hesitated before asking in a loud whisper, "Did you _actually_ ride that dragon out of Gringotts?"

Hermione laughed – she had an inkling that was going to be asked. "Yes, it was actually quite fun looking back but at the time I was bricking it."

There were a few chuckles and then Daisy spoke up. "What_ really_ happened when you got captured?"

The five young adults all gazed at Hermione expectantly, not making a sound in case they missed something crucial. She stopped smiling and stiffened. The horrible events which had taken place at Malfoy Manor were still a tender subject for her, no doubt for the whole Malfoy family too. She wondered if Draco had answered any questions that the students posed. "That, I'd rather not say for the moment, sorry guys."

Their shoulders slumped with disappointment and she changed the subject by beginning the two hour lesson – they were all very bright individuals and didn't seem to be struggling with the concept of Conjuring Spells.

About ten minutes before the end of the double period, Daisy raised her hand.

"Have you finished writing?" Hermione questioned, gesturing at the blackboard behind her.

She nodded. "Yes, but is it okay if I go to the hospital wing, please? I don't think I feel too well."

"Er, yeah, go on then." Hermione waved her hand lazily and Daisy began to pack up her things eagerly, leaving the classroom at a little jog.

She saw Callum whisper something to Xavier and they both snorted with laughter at whatever he had said. "Care to share, boys?"

Xavier, trying to stifle his laughter, glanced at Callum before speaking. "Just a private joke, Professor."

"It's probably about Daisy, they constantly take the piss." Victoria said loudly, glaring at the two boys. "I don't know what's so funny about her going to the hospital wing."

"What's funny is that she's probably _not_ going to the hospital wing," retorted Xavier with a lopsided grin. His brown eyes flicked towards Hermione and she glanced at him warningly. Jimmy snickered from behind him causing Hermione to turn her attention to the blond haired boy.

Callum muttered something again and his friend howled with laughter once more, whilst Victoria turned white with rage.

"How can you say that?" She gasped angrily. "She is so not like that!"

Before any of the boys could respond, Hermione interrupted them. "Right guys, that's enough. I'm not sure if I want to know what you're saying about Daisy, but-"

"They're saying she's probably gone to have a shag!" Victoria burst out unhappily, receiving three of the dirtiest looks from the boys.

"That's _enough_, all of you." Hermione said sternly and the four students turned to face her sheepishly. "Leave Daisy alone. You're seventh years, please try and act a little more mature. Now it's the end of the lesson so you're free to go."

The only noise was the scraping of chairs and the packing of bags as the pupils left. Once the door closed, Hermione sighed, already shocked at having to raise her voice on the first day. Her thoughts drifted and she wondered if what they were saying about the pretty young lady was true. She shook her head, annoyed that she was probably encouraging a rumour. She hurriedly tidied her papers away and then went to find Jack Weaver's classroom.

Upon reaching the classroom door, Hermione smoothed down her robes, ruffled her hair and then knocked gently. There was silence save for some loud rustling and a hasty cough, then, "Come in!"

She entered the room where there had been so many variations of things during her time at Hogwarts – Pixies, Grindylows, whirring objects, _doilies_ (Hermione shuddered at the memory of Professor Umbridge in fifth year) – and now as she gazed around, the room seemed fairly basic and average. She jumped with surprise, however, when Daisy Woodward hurried past her avoiding eye contact. Frowning, she watched her leave the Defence Against the Dark Arts room before turning to Jack with a questioning look upon her features. "She told me she was going to the hospital wing?"

"Ah yes, she said it was just a headache and she just came to see me about some work," Jack waved his hand nonchalantly and leaned back into his chair, smiling at Hermione. "So, anything I can do?"

"Well," Hermione began shyly. "Do you happen to have a free now?"

"I do indeed." He paused. "Do you want to start our 'date'?"

Hermione's grin answered his question and they set off together, down the marble staircase and out through the courtyard to the fresh air.

"Where do you want to start our tour?" he asked, clasping his hands behind his back as they walked.

"Down at the Forbidden Forest and then we can work our way up?" She suggested, shoving her hands into the pocket of her robes. Although the September air was still fairly warm, there was a chilly wind beginning to pick up.

They wandered down and began to stroll along the outskirts of the looming forest, Hermione peering in through the branches with numerous memories flooding back to her. "I went in there in my first year."

Jack gasped with mock horror. "You _naughty_ girl! It's forbidden!"

She laughed at his reaction and then explained. "I went in with Harry, Draco and Hagrid. It was the first of our many adventures even though we were actually being punished and Ron was suffering with a dragon bite."

"What did you do?" Jack looked over her shoulder and tried to see through the darkness. "It doesn't seem that bad, if I'm honest."

"Well, Hagrid had this dragon, which was obviously illegal, and Ron's brother Charlie worked, and still does work, with dragons in Romania. So we had this wonderful plan that in the dead of night, Harry and I would take Norbert – the dragon – up the astronomy tower to give to Charlie who would be waiting for us." She paused, remembering how small their adventures had started and how they had evolved into searching for Horcruxes and killing Voldemort. She continued, "All went well until we got caught by Filch and McGonagall - Draco had snitched on us after previously seeing us down in Hagrid's cabin with the dragon."

He laughed a loud, but pleasant, laugh. "That's brilliant. Absolutely _brilliant_. I wish I had been at school with you."

Hermione looked down, turning a light shade of pink.

"Tell me more stories, please, they sound amazing." Jack said earnestly, slipping his arm between hers so they were interlinked.

Hermione blushed harder but began to recite more of the memories she had shared with Ron and Harry. They continued along the forest as she spoke, up past Hagrid's cabin, headed over towards the lake and back up to the courtyard door. She had just finished telling Jack about flying out of Gringotts when her stomach gave a loud rumble.

"Crikey, what time is it?" She asked, and Jack checked his watch.

"Time for lunch," he replied smirking, and Hermione suddenly thought of Draco and his words from the previous night. _I don't like the look of him, never have_. _If you get involved with him and he hurts you, don't come crying to me. _

She shuddered internally and wondered if she should trust Draco's judgement. But she wasn't getting _involved_ with Jack was she? He interrupted her thoughts with a light touch to her hand.

"Hermione," he reached up and pulled some stray wisps of hair out of her eyes. "I know you broke up with your boyfriend last night, but I just want you to know that I think you're beautiful."

_Woah, steady on_, she thought, overwhelmed by the compliment he just paid her. "Thanks," she squeaked, unsure of what to say. She was even unsure of where this was going as he moved himself slightly closer. A bit fast, wasn't it?

"I've had a lovely morning," he murmured, and then kissed her lightly on the cheek. "Thank you."

Hermione was at a loss for words as he went back into the castle, leaving her to follow him in towards the loud chatter of students rushing through the corridors as they went for lunch. In a slight daze, she slipped through the courtyard door and joined the throng of students entering the Great Hall. Jack seemed to have disappeared as she went to sit up on the professor's table, and she had no idea where he had gone. There was a loud huff beside her as Draco sat down and nudged her in the arm.

"Everything alright? You look as if you've just seen Voldemort return."

She looked at him and took in his concerned expression, his silvery-blue eyes searching her own face and his perfect mouth turned down in a slight frown. She took in a breath and asked quietly. "Draco, what is it about Jack that you don't like?"

He scowled at the mention of his name. "I just think he's a no good son-of-a-bitch. Many of my female friends have crossed his path once or twice and it always seems to end in tears."

"But Draco, when we were at Hogwarts, you-"

"I know, I know," he conceded, shrugging his shoulders. "A little hypocritical for me to say that, but at least I didn't cheat and lie and do loads of other crazy emotional crap."

Hermione was shocked. Was all this true? "What do you mean?"

Draco groaned. "Okay, one of my friends Daphne – you remember Daphne, right? – met him shortly after he arrived in the UK. She was besotted with him, you know, him being French, dark and handsome and all." he said sardonically. "So they start dating and then one day she finds a, er, thong thrown under the bed which she knows isn't hers. She confronts him and he has the cheek to say that it was a present that he _hadn't had time to wrap_."

Hermione gasped at the atrocity of Jack's behaviour. Draco carried on in a hushed tone.

"So, Daphne – very stupidly, I have to say – believed this rubbish and they carried on as normal. Then, she went out for a meal with me, Blaise, Theodore, Pansy and Theo's girlfriend Jess. He went absolutely crazy, accusing her of cheating on him and flirting with other men, saying it was a triple-date or something. Meanwhile, he was still messing about with other women. Finally, Daphne had the sense to end it, but not without a lot of heartache."

Hermione was in shock. Surely this couldn't be the same charming, funny Jack that she had been with not ten minutes ago? "That can't be true, Draco."

"It is, and it's not just Daphne. He might appear to be all lovely and Frenchy but he's a sneaky little dickhead." He spat bitterly.

Silence fell between them, each involved in their own thoughts, Hermione completely overwhelmed with confusing emotions.

"Why are you asking?" Draco suddenly asked, raising an eyebrow. "I did happen to see you two walking around outside, you know."

Hermione opened her mouth and then closed it, unsure of what to say.

"He hasn't done anything, has he?" He suddenly said angrily, bending his lean form to look down the table to find him. "Where is he? Lunch has started."

Hermione shrugged, her mind still in turmoil about the information she had just received. "And no, he hasn't tried anything, Draco."

He looked at her shrewdly. "You're lying."

She rolled her eyes and spluttered, cringing when she felt her face betray her. "Yes, fine, all he did was kiss me on the cheek."

Draco didn't say anything but his expression was so dark that Hermione could probably guess what he was thinking. He muttered something about French culture and then dug into his food.

* * *

><p>The rest of the day sped by with several more classes and thoughts of Jack disappeared as she tried to remember all the names of pupils she had. Dinner approached just as she began to feel peckish and she sat awkwardly between Draco and, a couple of seats away, Jack. The meal passed mostly in silence, and Hermione was grateful to get away to her room. Eyes drooping, she changed into her pyjamas and sank under the duvet of her bed. Sleep came quickly for her that night.<p>

It wasn't until the morning post that she received an owl. Her stomach lurched nervously when she thought it was Ron's reply, but she recognised Ginny's handwriting and felt a slither of disappointment. It would have eased her mind if she knew that Ron was okay – maybe this was what the letter was about.

Hermione read it through once and sighed happily; Ginny spoke of her first baby scan approaching in two weeks time, her wanting to meet up for a coffee in Hogsmeade and Ron's reluctant acceptance. She had explained that he had been busy at the Auror office the past couple of days and hadn't really had time to sit down and think about it. To Hermione, that was good news and her mood perked up immensely after reading the letter.

"Good morning, Draco," she said brightly to the tired man, slipping the letter into her pocket.

"Morning," he yawned noisily as he joined the table. "What do you have planned for today?"

"I have a full teaching day." Hermione replied, feeling fairly excited about the whole thing.

"Good." He nodded slowly, appearing to be thinking about something else. "I do too."

They fell into an awkward silence and Hermione asked slowly, "Get any … post this morning?"

He shook his head and said tightly, "No."

Raising her eyebrows but not saying anything, Hermione began to eat breakfast.

"I haven't had a letter from my parents since I started working here." He said suddenly, lowering his head.

Hermione sat there aghast. "Not even from your mother?"

Draco only clenched his fork angrily and Hermione took that as a no. He then muttered, "I don't know why they seem so incapable."

"Have you spoken to them about it?" She asked quietly.

"Kind of, I-" His mouth snapped shut and fell into a taught line when Jack fell into the chair beside Hermione.

"Hello," The Frenchman smiled warmly at Hermione and then managed a little waver at Draco who only stared coldly in return.

"Hello, Jack." The things Draco had told her the day before came flooding back. She edged ever so slightly towards Draco, but still greeted him nicely.

"Fancy another walk today, Hermione?" He asked, wriggling his eyebrows a little.

She almost cried out when Draco's foot connected with her ankle. "I, er, can't today – full day, you see."

A dark look entered his eyes but it was soon covered by him glancing away towards the student's tables. "Never mind, we'll do it another time. This evening perhaps."

"Perhaps," Hermione repeated weakly, her eyes beginning to water.

"What do you have today, Weaver?" Draco asked gruffly, not bothering to smile.

He seemed surprised at being addressed by the man who seemed to openly hate him. "Only fifth and seventh year today, why?"

"When are you teaching seventh year?"

"Before lunch." Jack replied shortly, slightly confused at his questioning. "Why?" He repeated.

"Oh, just one of my students was having a timetable issue with our lessons but I think it's a misunderstanding." Draco said carelessly and Hermione got the distinct impression that he had just told a full-blown lie. She would question him about it after Jack had left.

"Right, okay." Jack turned his attention to Hermione as he rose from his seat. "I'll see you at lunchtime – I have some work to sort out."

When he was out of earshot, Hermione turned to Draco, bemused. "Why on earth did you just tell a blatant fib?"

He laughed and then said, "Look."

Draco pointed to Jack as he went through the Great Hall, pausing to stop at the Gryffindor table to talk to someone Hermione couldn't see. When the dark-haired man moved again, she realised it was the seventh year girls. Draco smiled at her triumphantly.

"I still don't see."

He only smirked and went back to his food, leaving Hermione feeling more confused about the silly Frenchman.

**_So, I hope that's okay for you guys! Eek! PLEEEEEEEEEEEASE REVIEW. And thanks to everyone else, especially my beta!_**


	8. Chapter 8

**_Disclaimer: I own nothing._**

_Chapter 8_

Two weeks into the first term, it dawned on Hermione that her birthday was three days away. She had been so busy with teaching that she had completely forgotten about it and she had nothing planned. She began to worry as she went down to breakfast and when an owl dropped a large package in front of her, she screamed, too engrossed in her own thoughts to see the bird flying towards her.

"What's the matter, Hermione?" McGonagall asked with concern, peering down at her through her spectacles.

"Nothing, Minerva, I'm so sorry. The owl made me jump, that's all." She said apologetically, and began to open the envelope which held a card – she gathered it was from her parents.

"Ooh, what you got there, Granger?" Draco asked, leaning over her shoulder to peer down at the writing. "_Darling Hermione,__ Happy bir-_ hey, what's the matter?"

Hermione had shut the card with a snap and glared up at Draco. "This is _private_, Draco."

"You could have told me it's your birthday." He retorted grumpily, sitting himself down beside her. He eyed the parcel. "What's in there?"

"It's not my birthday today – it's on the nineteenth. And I don't know yet, Draco, I haven't opened it, have I?" She rolled her eyes at his stupid question and carried on reading her card, leaning away from Draco's prying eyes.

He snorted. "Don't they know the date of your birth? Why have they sent it early?"

"Because they're going on holiday to Australia! They've become very … partial to the country." Hermione added quietly. She wasn't sure if Draco knew about her changing her parents' memories and sending them Down Under during The War.

"Lucky them. Are you going to open your parcel?"

She looked bemused. "Why are you so eager for me to open it now?"

"Because I want to know what Muggles buy for each other!" He said impatiently.

She laughed and began to tear open the package to reveal a large, fluffy white towel with a little _H_ embroidered on the corner, a selection of delicious smelling bath creams and a photo frame with a picture of herself and her parents before she left for Hogwarts. "Wow, this is amazing," she murmured aloud to herself.

"Is that all? Is that _all_ you Muggles do? It's the bloody same!" He cried out, dissatisfied with the normal objects before him. "Wait! What's wrong with that picture?"

Hermione laughed again. "It's a Muggle photo – they don't move."

"_Weird_." He closely inspected the photo with its frozen smiles and stationary bodies. "How do you do it?"

"Well, you just take a photo," Hermione said, slightly confused at his question. "And it comes out like this. To make it move I'd have to develop it in some sort of potion, I think."

"Right, okay." Draco just nodded and pretended to understand. As he did his usual sweep over the Great Hall with his eyes, he spotted Jacques Weaver slipping into the room and someone following him not long after. He prodded Hermione excitedly in the rib. "Look, _look_. Now tell me you get it."

She followed his gaze and just saw Daisy Woodward sitting down in her group of friends at the table. "No … I don't get it?"

"Merlin's pants, Hermione, isn't it obvious?" He said incredulously. "I can't believe they call you the brightest witch of this age."

"Isn't _what_ obvious? Draco, just tell me!" She said, her frustration building as she blinked her eyes in an attempt to try and see more clearly.

"No, you have to figure this out because it's so simple." He drawled as he leant comfortably back into his chair. "Just think about what I've been trying to show you over these past two weeks."

They had had many conversations, and the only one that stuck out in Hermione's mind was when Draco told her about Jack's inexplicable behaviour. "I don't _know_, Draco. Please just say what it is?" She insisted.

"Say what _what_ is?"

"Did you know it's rather rude to interrupt someone's conversation, Weaver? Or did they not teach you that at Beauxbatons?" Draco said snidely to the Frenchman who had appeared at Hermione's right shoulder.

Jack's hand twitched at the side of his robes and Hermione knew he was close to hexing Draco, and for some reason that made her quite angry. "Don't," she hissed so only he could hear.

His dark eyes glanced down at her in surprise, and a little bit of hurt, but nonetheless he sat down on the other side of her. "A special occasion?" He nodded stiffly to her parents' parcel.

"Yes, it's my birthday in three days." She replied, trying to lighten the mood.

"Oh, why didn't you say?" He said, a smile gracing his handsome features.

She shrugged. "I forgot – I'm busy."

"Yeah, doing _work_." Draco said pointedly, sending a malevolent stare at Jack.

The Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher rose quickly with his wand drawn at Draco, right in front of Hermione's face. "And what's _that_ supposed to mean, Malfoy?"

"That she's busy doing work?" He feigned confusion at Jack's behaviour which was gathering a few onlookers.

"You know you did not mean that," Jack snarled, and Hermione noticed that his accent got stronger when he was angrier.

"Gentlemen," came the stern voice of McGonagall. "Is there a problem? I expect this behaviour from students but certainly _not_ from professors."

"All is fine, Minerva, we're just having a little chat." Draco smiled warmly at the headmistress who then returned to her seat at the centre of the table, sending the two men a beady stare all the same.

"I'll see you later, Hermione." Jack muttered, stowing his wand with shaking hands. He left the Great Hall quickly, not without earning several looks of interest from students.

"What is _wrong_ with you?" Hermione groaned, shoving her half-eaten pancake away.

"Me?" Draco asked, his voice rising. "I think you really need to be checking up on Jack before you say there's something wrong with me."

"Just tell me then if it's so bloody important!" Hermione gritted her teeth and glared at Draco, not wanting to draw attention to them again. "You know what; I'm going to get ready for class. If you aren't going to tell me, then there's no point in me staying much longer." She got up, gathered her presents and left the Great Hall, muttering under her breath.

"Professor! Professor Granger!"

Hermione stopped walking and turned around to face a pink-cheeked fifth year girl. "Yes, Eva?"

"I don't fully understand the homework that you gave us last lesson." She explained sheepishly.

"Come and see me at lunchtime." Hermione replied gently, her earlier irritation disappearing. "Though have you looked up Vanishing in the library?"

The girl shook her head.

"Well, come and see me first and then go to the library – it'll help you a lot." Hermione smiled and then went to leave once the girl had returned to her table. Although she had felt rather irate towards at Jack, she did feel a little guilty at the way Draco had been towards him and how she had done nothing to stop it. _He's a grown man, he can look after himself_, a voice told her. But it still didn't settle her. She resolved to find Jack in her break later on.

After finding a safe place to stow her presents out of Crookshanks' reach, and sending a hasty letter to Ginny asking if she could let Harry, Ron, Luna and Neville know of birthday plans to meet in Hogsmeade that weekend, Hermione hurried back down to her classroom just as the bell rang.

"Come in, come in!" She beckoned her seventh years into the room.

"Everything okay, professor?" Victoria asked, regarding the panting Transfiguration Professor with some mild amusement.

"Yes, sorry … in a hurry!" Hermione collapsed into her chair behind the desk and lazily waved her wand towards the board. "Before we move on to the next topic, I want each of you to produce a perfect bunch of flowers for me. _No wilted ones_!" She added with a waggle of her finger. "I want to see if you've grasped Conjuring fully."

One by one, the students all murmured _Orchideous_ and all but one bouquet was deemed perfect by Hermione.

"Jimmy, what's that?" She pointed a finger towards the bottom of his colourful bunch of flowers.

He twisted the flowers so he could see well. There, the smallest flower of the bunch, was a pansy hunched over, it's purple colour almost faded to a black. "Aw, professor, can't you ignore that?"

"No, I asked specifically for a perfect bunch of flowers. That is not a perfect bunch of flowers, Jimmy. Now, during class – whilst everyone else turns to page three-hundred-and-forty-seven – you will write out the correct definition and incantation of _Orchideous_ and explain why you failed to produce a perfect bouquet."

Jimmy scowled at the war hero before slumping onto his desk with his quill. He began to scribble on the parchment and Hermione turned to the rest of the class. "As you can see from the textbook, we will be learning about Human Transfiguration. I know you started this last year, but we will be going into more depth. Now, who can tell me an example of a complicated Human Transfiguration?"

Ten minutes into the lesson, Jimmy sullenly handed his foot long essay to Hermione, who skim-read it and seemed satisfied. She murmured some instructions to him whilst the rest were working, and he eagerly began to try and catch up with the rest of the class. The silence that filled the room was wonderful for Hermione, and the scratching of quills against parchment was like music to her ears. She closed her eyes contentedly as the minutes ticked by until one pupil gave a polite cough which sounded remarkably like Professor Umbridge.

"Yes?" Hermione found Daisy staring at her expectantly.

"Professor, I don't feel too good, would you mind if I went to the hospital wing?"

Hermione arched an eyebrow and leant forward on her arms. "You seem to be going to the hospital wing rather a lot during my lessons, Miss Woodward. Let's see, twice last week and three times the week before! Is there something wrong? Do you wish to quit my classes?"

There was a light snigger from Xavier which Hermione ignored.

Daisy reddened. "No, Professor, I-I just have a headache."

"Well, you only have five minutes left of the lesson so I don't think it'll do harm to wait." Hermione said firmly. Something told her that Daisy was not being truthful.

"No, Professor." She mumbled meekly and hid her stained cheeks behind her dark locks.

Hermione nodded, satisfied, and glared at the boys when they were trying to stifle their laughter. She had made up her mind to give them all homework. "Right, I want you all to write a two-foot essay on the benefits of Human Transfiguration and some famous instances that it's been used."

There was a chorus of groans but they wrote down their homework, packed their bags and left the classroom. Remembering that she wanted to apologise to Jack, she locked her classroom door and headed towards the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. Just before she reached it, a hand tapped her on the shoulder. It was Malfoy.

"Where are you going?" He seemed excited.

"Er …" Hermione wasn't sure whether to answer. "Jack's classroom."

"_Brilliant_." He whispered, almost jumping. His grey eyes were alight and he beckoned her to follow him. "Come on."

"Wh-"

"You go first." Draco pressed a hand to the small of her back, and it suddenly reminded her of the summer ball. She almost froze on the spot and Draco had to give her a little push to make her move again.

They were standing outside the classroom and Hermione was about to tap the door when Draco closed a hand around her fist. "Don't knock!" He breathed in her ear, tickling her neck and making her shiver involuntarily. Hopefully he didn't notice.

"Why? That's rude!" She whispered furiously back. What was he playing at?

"Just do it, Hermione!" He almost sounded angry.

She succumbed to his request and opened the door, feeling very guilty. "Hi, Ja- oh my goodness gracious me, what the _bloody hell is this_?"

There, in front of Hermione, was a cluster of entangled limbs on top of the desk. Papers were strewn everywhere, a robe had been carelessly thrown onto a chair and hanging off a foot, was a bright pink thong. When she had opened the door, there had been the sound of grunting and heavy breathing. Now all she heard was a ragged breath and then, "_Merde_."

Hermione was still in shock. She heard Draco positively guffaw behind her but she didn't bother trying to shut him up. Part of her wanted to laugh at the scene before her, part of her wanted to cry, but all she could do was to stare at a sweaty Frenchman lying on top of an equally sweaty, familiar dark haired seventh year.

She took a breath. "Er, would you care to explain?"

Silence.

"I'll rephrase. Jack what the hell are you doing, you slimy, sneaky piece of filth!" She drew her wand and he shook his head desperately at her.

"No, no, I'm sorry, Hermione. Let me explain!" He gently got off Daisy and stood there, stark naked.

"Oh, I'll never forget this day, never in a million years!" Draco's triumphant voice travelled from the doorway.

"Care to explain why you are … are … having sexual intercourse with a student?" After all this, Hermione was still trying to remain professional whilst blushing furiously.

"It's wrong, I know, but-"

"You do realise I will be telling Minerva, don't you?" Hermione said coldly. "And put some bloody clothes on."

"N-no, no, please, Hermione, please don't do that!" Jack pleaded, pulling on his boxers and his shirt.

"And let this go unnoticed? Are you _joking_, Weaver?" Without realising, she had reverted to calling him by his surname like Draco.

"I'll get fired!"

Draco suddenly appeared by Hermione, livid, all traces of humour gone. "And so you should be, you sleaze-ball of a wizard! As well as playing several of my friends, you go and bonk a bloody student!"

"I never played them," Jack squeaked, his dark eyes widening when Hermione raised her wand.

"_Expelliarmus!_" Hermione handed Jack's wand to Draco and then went over to Daisy, who was still lying on the desk with tears streaming down her face.

"How long, Daisy?" Hermione didn't try to hide the disappointment in her eyes.

"Si-six months." Came the faint reply.

"Go to the hospital wing; I'll speak to you afterwards." Hermione ordered, not unkindly. She handed the girl her clothes, and as soon as she was dressed, she scampered off.

Draco was glaring at the shivering Jack. "At least you could have locked the door, thicko."

"It had an anti-student charm on it!" He insisted in reply. "Only professors could open it."

"Oh, and what if Minerva had wanted to see you?" Draco raised an eyebrow, folding his arms as he did so.

"Any normal person would knock, idiot." Jack seemed to regain some of his fight back.

"Regardless, the headmistress _will_ hear about this." Hermione said firmly and then muttered, "_Incarcerous_!"

The thick ropes snaked around Jack's hands and feet, tripping him up and pulling him to the floor. His eyes pleaded with Hermione as she glared down at him. "Hermione, please … don't tell Minerva. I'll never do it again, never!"

"You won't have a chance to as you'll be gone." It was Draco who answered. "I'll send a patronus up to her, Hermione." He waved his wand and a silver snake twirled in the air before disappearing out of the classroom.

"You might want to lock the door for now, actually. Just in case some students come in." Hermione pointed out, grimacing at the thought of an eleven year old seeing one of their teachers half naked and bound in ropes.

Draco shut the door whilst Hermione sat on a chair and stared at Jack.

"I'll … I'll tell Minerva!" The Frenchman threatened feebly.

"Tell her what?" Hermione laughed incredulously.

"All those stories!"

"As if she would care, Weaver!" Draco snorted and shook his head. "Minerva turned a blind eye half the time! Hermione's hardly going to get in trouble for brewing a polyjuice potion eight years ago."

Jack clenched his teeth and rested his head on the stone floor, unable to keep it up any longer.

A knock. "Draco? What exactly is going on?" Minerva McGonagall's voice sounded sharp, whether from worry or from annoyance at being disturbed. Hermione hoped it was the former.

"We have a rather interesting situation concerning a professor and a student, Minerva." Draco told the headmistress bluntly as she came into the classroom.

Searching the room, the Scottish lady's eyes fell upon the forlorn looking Jack. She raised an eyebrow and asked coolly, "And what exactly has happened?"

Draco glanced at Hermione before continuing. "Jack Weaver and Miss Daisy Woodward were caught … in the act."

"In the act of what?" Minerva dared to ask, her lip beginning to curl when she looked down at the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor. It was one of the few times Hermione had seen her look so disgusted.

Draco stared pointedly at the headmistress, reluctant to say. She didn't show any signs of comprehension so he sighed as he said, "They were caught having _sex_ on the _desk_. It's been going on for six months."

McGonagall pursed her lips before tugging on her tartan collar. "Well," she coughed. "How old is Miss Woodward?"

"She's of age," Hermione replied quietly.

Jack glanced up at the three of them, a triumphant glint in his eye.

"You could still get fired," Draco snapped angrily.

"Thank you, Draco." Minerva murmured with a slight warning tone to her voice. "Jack, would you please get dressed and then come to my office." She waved her wand and the ropes disappeared, allowing the Frenchman to clothe himself fully before following McGonagall out of the classroom. As he left, he sent daggers at Malfoy and then a pitying look at Hermione.

"What was that for?" She muttered to herself after he had left.

"Sorry?" Draco asked, twirling his wand to clean up the mess.

"Nothing, just Weaver being a prick." She replied, helping Draco finish the job. "Shall we both go and see Daisy?"

"I'd leave it for a minute, give her time to think and calm down first. Then I think it would be best if it was just you." Draco said thoughtfully.

She nodded, absorbing his words. "I guess you're right."

"I am always right, Hermione. Take this whole incident for example." He gestured to the room they were in and smirked down at her.

She rolled her eyes. "How long did you know?"

"End of last year, I suppose." He shrugged and began to leave. "Are you coming?"

Nodding, she trailed after him, closing the door and locking it with a better charm than Jack's which he had so carelessly thought of.

* * *

><p>It had been the busiest day for Hermione since she had started teaching at Hogwarts. After the awkward and unpleasant event in the morning, she had several more lessons as well as speaking to Eva regarding the homework and Daisy about her relationship.<p>

It wasn't until after supper that evening that Hermione could sit down and relax in her quarters, summoning a house elf to kindly bring her a big glass of red wine. She was glad that her involvement with Jack and Daisy wasn't vital, but she felt sorry for Minerva with the amount of work and inquiries which would no doubt face her. Her thoughts turned to Draco as she curled up on her sofa, sipping her wine gently. It seemed like a lifetime ago she moved to her new house and had been invited to his Summer Ball. So much had happened in the space of only a few months! She closed her eyes and remembered the feeling of his hand against the small of her back and the way it had made her shiver. Her heart stuttered at the memory and she blushed as her imagination began to twist the events which happened afterwards, changing it to her being pushed up against a wall as Draco began to-

Her eyes flew open, completely embarrassed at her thoughts despite no one being around to see her. She hastily gulped some wine down before taking a deep breath and being surprised by an owl tapping at her window. Getting up from the sofa, she set down the glass and welcomed the bird in who she recognised to be Sirius; the tiger owl she had bought for Harry.

"Hello, lovely." She crooned, taking the letter from his foot. She scanned the contents and smiled satisfied – Ginny truly was a best friend. She had sent letters to Neville, Luna and Ron asking them to the Three Broomsticks on Saturday for lunch for Hermione's birthday. She also said that the scan had gone well and Ron seemed to be fine.

Hermione peered at the photo which Ginny had attached to the parchment, her eyes filling with tears. There was her two best friend's future child, no longer than an inch. She scrawled a hasty reply on a spare bit of parchment, and sent Sirius back home whilst still gazing in wonder at the photo. It was amazing that it would grow into a person one day.

She was interrupted by a frustrated knock. Carefully placing the photo on the table, she opened her portrait door curious to see who'd be calling at nine-thirty. "Oh, hi."

Draco smirked at her before glaring at the portrait. "What is your stupid password? I've tried _Scarhead, Weasel_ and _Know-it-all_ but it doesn't work. Oh, wait; is it _I-love-house-elves_?"

She laughed. "I hope you're joking. And I'm not going to tell you my password."

"Why not? Mine's_ Slytherin-Rules_." He said seriously, peering under her arm. "Are you … going to let me in or are we just going to talk here?"

"You want to talk?" Hermione slipped out before she could hold her tongue.

He seemed confused. "Er, yes?"

"Right, okay … come in." She stood to the side to let him pass and he brushed against her, a shiver running down her spine. "Would you like a glass of wine?"

He stopped in his examination of her living area and nodded. "Please. Nice place you have here, although it could be a little better." He grimaced at the colour scheme.

"It's exactly the same as yours!" She laughed, shaking her head at his comment before calling an elf. "Could I have another big glass of red wine, please?"

"Make that a bottle," Draco called to the creature. It bowed and then disappeared loudly. "And Hermione, silver and green make a room look _way_ better than these shabby colours."

"Are you serious? You can't pull that one on me!" She sat back down on the sofa again, gesturing to one of the armchairs for him to sit in.

"What do you mean?" His eyes narrowed and he ignored her request.

"Your house seemed to be absent of those two colours." She replied with a smirk.

"How would you know? You only went in the garden!" Draco growled, glaring down at her.

She chuckled. "I still had to walk through part of it. Besides, I also went to the loo."

He looked affronted. "How did you know where my bathroom was?"

"Er, someone … said."

"You looked around, didn't you?" He exclaimed, his features hardening.

"No, no, relax. I saw someone coming from there." Hermione reassured him soothingly. "Sit down, Draco, please."

His body didn't relax as he sat stiffly in the armchair, not even when the elf arrived with the bottle and a glass of wine. He had to take a couple of sips before he finally settled into the cushions. "Is that yours?" he joked, pointing to the picture on the table of the baby.

"Yeah, sorry, forgot to mention it to you." She laughed when she saw Draco's shocked expression. "C'mon, I'm only kidding; it's Ginny and Harry's."

His face transformed into relief before slipping back into his usual mask of indifference. "That's good. Boy or girl?"

"I think they're waiting."

"Ah, okay."

They lapsed into silence. Draco took a sip of his wine and looked around again, Hermione watching his eyes wander. She really did admire his profile. His body, under his grey oxford shirt, seemed to be toned and lean, the posture of his crossed legs exerting confidence.

"Hermione, would you like me to take off my shirt?" He asked, his eyes fixed curiously upon a photo she had put up when she had arrived.

Blushing, Hermione cursed her blatant staring and didn't answer. He let it go, smirking.

"What are you doing for your birthday?" He decided to change the subject to ease her embarrassment.

"Meeting up in Hogsmeade with Harry, Ginny, Neville, Luna and Ron." She responded meekly.

"Ron?" He repeated, pursing his lips thoughtfully. "Interesting."

"Don't be silly, Draco," Hermione rolled her eyes, recovered from her humiliation. "It would be childish not to. We're fine."

"You don't think it'll be awkward?"

"Not especially," Hermione swallowed nervously. "I hope it's not."

Draco said nothing.

"W-would, would you like to come?" Hermione asked, abashedly.

"Er, are you sure about that?" Draco scratched his head, not wanting to reject the invitation but not wanting to accept it either.

"Not really."

"Are you sure it's a good idea, then?" He questioned, looking concerned at the witch opposite him.

She shrugged. "How about you just _happen_ to be in the Three Broomsticks anyway?"

"That could work, but it would be quite hard. And awkward." He pulled a face.

"Why, it's a Hogsmeade weekend anyway, _thankfully_." Hermione had double checked with Minerva at lunchtime.

"I don't think Madame Rosmerta likes me very much." He admitted bitterly.

It took a moment for what Draco was saying to register. "Oh, yeah. Sixth year." She grimaced. "She hasn't banned you, has she?"

"No." He said, shrugging.

"Well then, no problem. Look, just come in and I'll say, '_Oh look, guys, Draco works with me at Hogwarts. Budge up and let him sit down_.'"

He laughed coldly. "That will most definitely not work."

"I'm sure Luna and Ginny will be more inclined to have you." She said half-heartedly.

"Thanks for the offer, but it would ruin your birthday." He drained his glass and stood up. "Right, I'll see you tomorrow morning."

He smiled a little sadly before leaving her on the sofa, not realising how incredibly wrong he was.

**_Hi guys, sorry for the wait - had a little trouble with writing this chapter! Anyway, hope you like it. And REVIEW, please!_**


	9. Chapter 9

**_Disclaimer: I own nothing_**

_Chapter 9_

Saturday dawned quickly and Hermione awoke excitedly, getting dressed and picking Crookshanks up to snuggle her face into his neck. He purred sleepily before wriggling to try and get out of her arms. Slightly offended, Hermione let him down and watched him climb back onto her bed and curl into a ginger ball, falling into a deep slumber once again. Huffing, Hermione finished getting ready before going downstairs for breakfast. One thing that marginally annoyed her about teaching at Hogwarts, was that she had to remain in her robes on weekends, even during Hogsmeade trips.

She pulled her sleeves back as she settled down to eat a rather delicious looking omelette, and received a birthday congratulations from McGonagall who was walking past behind her.

"Thank you, Minerva!" Hermione beamed at the headmistress, a little bewildered that she knew.

"And Hermione," the older woman began, remembering something. "The first Quidditch match is next month. That's Hufflepuff versus Gryffindor."

She almost choked. Hermione had completely forgotten about Quidditch and all else to do with Gryffindor! "Yes, yes, of course!"

Minerva eyed her sceptically before resuming her breakfast and striking up conversation with the tiny Professor Flitwick.

"Hermione!" Draco's voice caused her to crane her neck around several other professors so she could see him jogging up to the table.

"Hi," she smiled warmly, and pulled the chair back beside her.

"Happy birthday!" he exclaimed, joining her in selecting an omelette. "What time are you going over to the Three Broomsticks?"

She shrugged, mid-mouthful. "Eleven, I s'pose." Swallowing, "My offer's still open, you know."

"About?" Draco asked, not looking at her.

She clucked her tongue. "Come on." She sighed, irritated, when he didn't show any signs of recognition. "About you joining us for lunch."

"Oh, _that_ offer." His eyes widened. "Yeah, er, I still stand by my previous answer."

Hermione pouted, her brown eyes gazing beseechingly at him. "Why?"

"Because." Was all he said.

"Stop being so cryptic." She snapped, giving up with the pleading look. "Well, _I_ still stand by what I said the other day, too. Just come about ten minutes after we've sat down and it can be a 'coincidence' that you're there."

He shook his head. "I'll go to Hogsmeade but I will not go into the Three Broomsticks."

"I bet you will." She countered, eyes narrowing.

"I won't." Draco bit back.

"No one can resist the warm, frothy, sweet, _yummy_ taste of a butterbeer. Not even hardened souls like yours." She added with a shy smile.

"My soul is not _hard_." He grumbled, jabbing his omelette roughly. "It's been through a lot."

She laughed. "Okay, I'm sorry, I'm sure your soul is very soft and squishy like a marshmallow." She stood up, swallowing the dregs of her pumpkin juice. "So, I'll see you later at the Three Broomsticks then?"

"No." He didn't look at her.

"Okay, see you at the Three Broomsticks." She ignored his reply and left before he could argue, a smirk plastered on her face. So far, her birthday was going swimmingly.

Hermione returned to her room and quickly finished getting ready. She changed her hairstyle several times before leaving it in a fairly controlled mess; she pinned back some of the stray curls off her face. She checked her purse, making sure she had enough money to buy everyone a decent enough lunch, tidied up the living room after a late night reading session and promptly left her quarters at ten-to-eleven.

As she was having a pleasant stroll down the long road to Hogsmeade, she heard someone jogging to catch up. Turning around, secretly hoping it was Draco with a sincere apology, she saw it was Pomona Sprout, the Herbology professor and Head of Hufflepuff House.

"Good morning, Hermione! I heard it was your birthday today!" The short woman panted, her cheeks flushed.

"Yes, it is. I was just going to the Three Broomsticks to meet some friends." Hermione replied pleasantly, grateful for the company.

"How lovely! I actually prefer the Hog's Head, if I'm honest. Aberforth has done such a wonderful job in refurbishing the place." Pomona added, nodding her head to herself approvingly. "Doesn't smell of goats at all now!"

Hermione laughed. "I must go in there and say hello whilst I'm here, actually – I haven't seen him since the War."

"Yes, he's a nice chap. Looked a lot like Albus …" The Herbology Professor trailed off, sniffing a little. Strange, she had never seemed the sentimental type to Hermione.

Hermione changed the subject. "So, the Quidditch match in several weeks! It's our Houses!"

Pomona glanced at Hermione, an eyebrow quirked. "Feel prepared?"

"Not really, I've never really got the hang of Quidditch! I'll just let Jimmy's friend, what's-his-name, Sam Briar, the captain, do the tough work. I'll just support them." Hermione laughed, half-joking, knowing that she had to put an input somewhere.

Pomona didn't seem to get her humour and just frowned. Seeing this, Hermione hurriedly made an excuse to go: "Oh, we're here, I'll leave you now. Bye!"

She quickened her step and entered the warm Inn, stopping to greet Madame Rosmerta and to take off her light scarf which had protected her from the sharp wind outside. Several students were sat at tables in groups, and a few of them gave her a wave which she returned. She spied a shock of red hair and saw Ginny, resting her head on Harry's shoulder, sitting at a table in a nice secluded corner. A feeling of warmth flooded through her body as she noticed Luna and Neville chatting to the married couple, and then Ron as he lounged back against the wooden pew he was sitting on. He was the first one to see her as she approached, offering her a smile which said many things, one of them being a sort of peace-offering. She grinned back in return, pleased that everything was back to normal between them.

"Hermione! Happy birthday!" Neville stood up, almost knocking over a large jug of golden butterbeer. He gave her a one armed hug as she stretched over Luna awkwardly, and then he sat back down, throwing the same arm around the back of Luna's chair. Hermione raised an eyebrow in expectation but the blond woman shook her head.

"No, Hermione, we aren't together. We tried but there were so many Nargles floating around Neville's head all the time, daddy said it was a sign that it wasn't meant to be." Luna said lightly, staring gingerly at Neville's face.

Ginny took a hurried sip of her water to stop herself from giggling outrageously and readily welcomed the hug that Hermione offered her. "Hope you've had a lovely day so far, Herms."

"Woah, _what_?" Hermione broke away from her friend and took the seat which Harry and vacated to make room for her. "Thanks, Harry. Sorry, Ginny, but since when have you called me _Herms_?"

The red-head shrugged, moving closer to her brother so Harry had more room. "It seemed appropriate. Herms."

"Appropriate? Oh, Gin, please don't call me that!" She pleaded whilst everyone else sniggered.

"Just for today," Ginny flashed a toothy grin. "It's my birthday present for you."

Hermione groaned. "Fine! For today but never again!"

"Here you go, Herms." Ron handed her a roughly wrapped gift, his face straining to stop from laughing at her glare.

"Not everyone else!" She whined, resting her head on her arms.

"Happy birthday, Herms."

"Herms, here's our gift."

"I hope you like this, Herms."

She felt like screaming when she looked up from her momentary seclusion, and glowered at Ginny who gave a hearty laugh. "Thanks, everyone." She muttered, taking a sip of butterbeer. "I think we should have something stronger."

"Herms! You're a professor!" Ginny gasped, stifling a giggle.

"Okay, whatever, just quit with the whole 'Herms' thing, please?" Hermione threw her arms back in defeat and stared around at all her friends who were smirking. "Ugh, why do I even _know_ you people?"

"Are you going to open your presents?" Luna asked dreamily, thankfully changing the subject.

"Yeah! Go on, H-"

"Don't." Hermione growled fiercely at Ron.

"I was only going to say Hermione, but, well, if you want …" Ron grimaced, pretending to be hurt.

She rolled her eyes and took the first gift which was a small box wrapped delicately in blue tissue paper. Reading the label before opening, she gushed happily to Luna when she pulled out a pair of fragile earrings. They were little hoops with an emerald stone in the middle and a turquoise feather dangling off the bottom of the circles. "They're so pretty, thank you, Luna!"

She laid them back in the box carefully and started to open the next present, whilst Ginny took the previous gift and peered curiously at the jewellery.

It was from Harry and Ginny – a little bottle of perfume which smelt of rose and a hint of mandarin.

"There's something else, too." Harry murmured, pulling apart some of the paper so she could see.

"Oh, Harry, Ginny …" Hermione lifted up a collage of photos in a glass frame, some moving and some stationary. "It's lovely, thank you both so much."

"Glad you like it, is the perfume okay?" Ginny asked, forehead creasing in worry.

"Yes, it's great!" Hermione sprayed a little on herself. "I really like it, thank you!"

Behind them, she heard the door of the Inn open and close, and she turned around hoping to see Draco. An old, hunched man had come in, glaring at anyone who looked at him and she twisted back around, disappointed. Not dwelling on the trickle of sadness inside her, Hermione pulled Neville's present forward which was a thick, woollen red scarf.

"If you ever snag it, the material repairs itself automatically!" he explained excitedly.

Hermione was slightly amused as she thanked him. She never expected Neville to get her a form of clothing. "I needed a big scarf, thanks, Neville!"

He coloured a little. "I did have a little help."

"Who?" Ginny leant forward, eyes wide. "Who, Neville?"

"Do you … do you remember Hannah Abott?" He asked shyly.

The group all nodded.

"Well, when I was shopping for your gift, Hermione, we bumped into each other and got talking. I explained that I had no idea what to get you and she gave me some advice." He fidgeted in his seat.

"Well, it's lovely! Thank her for me, would you?" Hermione beamed at Neville and he nodded.

Ginny gazed at him shrewdly. "Are you seeing her again?"

He nodded again, meekly.

Ron hooted and clapped his hands, thumping Neville on the back. "Good luck, mate! Hope it goes well! Hermione, open my present!"

She obliged and tore open the last gift which revealed a thick, heavy book called, _Enchanted Encounters_. "Oh, you remembered! I've wanted this book for ages!"

"Yeah," he mumbled, sheepishly. "Is it okay?"

"I love it, thank you." Hermione ran her hand over the front cover. She placed all her presents delicately into a pile and shrank them so she could fit them into her bag. "Thanks guys, all of you. The presents are wonderful and I love that you've all been able to come."

Hermione caught Madame Rosmerta's attention so they could order lunch. Whilst waiting for their food, she struck up a conversation with Luna.

"So, are you still helping your dad?"

"No, I'm a naturalist!" She exclaimed happily. "I'm still trying to find the Crumple-Horned-Snorkack, though. They're tricky to find."

"Hm, that does sound good!" Hermione tried not to sound sceptical. She was going to ask another question when the door opened again. Once more, it wasn't Draco and Hermione swallowed trying to get rid of the rising lump in her throat.

"Are you okay?" Luna asked, her big eyes boring into Hermione's brown ones.

"Y-yes, I'm fine, honestly." She forced a smile and Luna seemed satisfied with the response. "Ginny, how's the bump?"

Ginny looked down at her stomach, prodding it. "I'm not showing yet and probably won't for another month or two. It's still exciting all the same!"

"I'll get you some cream made from plimpie juice and Nargle droppings." Luna said seriously. "It sounds bad but it does help with the future back ache that pregnancy brings."

"Thanks, I'd appreciate that!" Ginny smiled.

They were all interrupted as food arrived. As they dug in and the day progressed, Hermione gave up hopes of Draco coming into the Three Broomsticks. It was some consolation that he was in Hogsmeade, but it would be nice if he dropped in even if he didn't say hello. Just a look would be sufficient.

Those thoughts plagued Hermione as they lounged around their table, food finished and forgotten. She checked her watch and saw with a jolt that it was almost five. It didn't go unnoticed by the rest of the group.

"Do you have to get back, Hermione?" Harry asked, smiling a little sadly.

She nodded. "Probably within the next half hour – I should get back for supper tonight." She ignored the squeak of the door as someone entered the Three Broomsticks.

"When will we see you next then?" Ron asked gruffly, trying not to show his disappointment.

She shrugged. "I don't know. The next Hogsmeade weekend? Christmas?"

"Christmas!" Ginny blanched. "I can't – oh, hello."

Ginny's sudden change in demeanour caused Hermione to turn around. She stood up as soon as she recognised the face before them. "Draco, you came!"

"You came?" Ron repeated, trying to sound polite as possible in his rising anger. "Did you plan this or something?"

"No, Ron," Hermione laughed nervously, standing beside Draco as the group stared at them both in disbelief. "No, he's just come over to say hello. We work together, didn't you know?"

The shocked faces obviously showed that this was new information and Ron's fists closed menacingly. "Well, he's said hello, now he can go."

"I haven't actually said anything, Weasley." Draco drawled coolly, not bothering to look in his direction. His eyes were fixed on Ginny who was eyeing him with a smirk. He raised an eyebrow questioningly. "Yes?"

"Nothing," she replied smugly. "Sit down, Ma-Draco."

Harry and Ron looked like she had just turned to the dark side – they stared at her with shock.

"Thanks, but no thanks." Draco replied and Ginny looked down, disappointed. "Well, happy birthday, Hermione, I'll see you later." He almost gave her shoulder a squeeze, but decided against it at the last minute, pretending to scratch his head so he didn't look like an idiot.

Hermione watched him as he left, wishing that she could be walking with him. She went to sit back down but Ginny had pulled Harry to her feet, exclaiming loudly, "Really sorry, Hermione, but we have to get back to my mum's for a dinner. Forgot the time, so we must dash! Come on, Ron!"

Ron started to get up slowly, frowning. "But Gi-"

"I _knew_ you'd forget, Ron," Ginny rolled her eyes, exasperated. "We have to go. _Now_."

Hermione opened her mouth to object as Ginny started throwing several galleons onto the table but she gave Hermione a look which clearly said, '_Go, hurry up! Follow Malfoy!' _

Hermione owed Ginny hugely for what she was doing for her. Clapping a hand to her own forehead, she cried, "Oh, I completely forgot! Minerva wanted to see me at five! Thanks for the presents and a wonderful day!" She hurriedly muttered to Ginny that she'd pay her back and began to jog out of the Three Broomsticks, trying to catch up with Draco. With one last look over her shoulder, she saw Ginny trying to coax Ron forward with Neville and Luna watching the whole situation bemusedly.

"Draco!" She called out, seeing the tall retreating figure of Malfoy leaving Hogsmeade. Puffing, she caught up with him just as they left the outskirts of the wizarding village. "Draco!"

He spun round, a smile on his face as a red-faced Hermione came and stood beside him. "What about your lunch?"

"Ginny helped me." She said, and they began to walk together back towards the school. A group of third years, after their first trip to Hogsmeade, hurried past, bubbling with excitement at the amount of sweets they had bought at Honeydukes. "Thanks for coming, by the way. It … it meant a lot."

Draco looked at her, surprised. "It did? I thought you were just messing around at breakfast."

"No, I was being serious. I'm glad you came." She blushed a little.

He smirked at her reaction. "Did you have a nice time? I mean, before I came along."

She laughed. "It was lovely, thanks. I've got some lovely gifts."

"Ah, yes, that reminds me." He reached into his pocket and bought out a carefully wrapped package.

"Oh, Draco," Hermione glanced up at him as she gingerly took the present. "You shouldn't have. You really didn't need to."

"I wanted to," he mumbled quietly, watching her hands and waiting for her to open it.

"But-"

"Just open it, Hermione." He said, impatiently.

Biting her lip, she carefully removed the packaging and gasped when she saw a leatherbound book. The pages were thick parchment, and she found a beautiful, large quill in the wrapping paper. Looking up at Draco, she had no idea what to say.

"I don't know if you like writing your thoughts down or anything," he said quickly, wringing his hands. "But I thought you'd … like it."

"I do, oh, I really do!" She gushed, trailing her fingers along the leather. "Thank you so much, Draco."

He smiled weakly and they carried on walking together up towards the castle. There was silence for about five minutes as Hermione examined the Journal, before she said, "I don't think I ever properly thanked you."

"For what?"

"For … inviting me to your ball, being civil – most of the time – to my friends …" she paused. "Showing me what a git Jack was."

At the last statement Draco laughed smugly. "You were a little blind."

"I honestly think I would have fallen for him properly if you weren't here," she mused aloud, to which Draco inhaled a breath sharply.

"I sincerely hope you wouldn't have done." He scowled angrily at the thought, shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his robes. "Although I had to point a few things out to you, I think you would have realised pretty soon. You aren't stupid."

Hermione gave a wry smile. "If you say so. I wonder what's happened to him."

Draco shrugged. "I don't care."

"I might ask Minerva when we get back to the castle," Hermione said to herself more than to her companion.

Draco just nodded and they fell into a silence again, although a comfortable one. For Hermione, this didn't feel awkward at all, strolling up towards the school not talking to the man beside her. She hoped he felt the same.

In fact, in Draco's mind, he was perfectly at ease with Hermione gazing around, lost in her own thoughts. He looked at her long waves of hair being pushed back against the slight wind, the healthy flush of her cheeks from the fresh air and her glittering brown eyes as they returned to the present in her hand. A lump formed in his throat and he swallowed hard, clenching his fists around the lining inside his pockets. He was so glad he had invited Hermione to his summer ball. She had looked beautiful, and for the weeks following, he couldn't stop thinking about her. And he had felt so guilty that time she'd spotted him in Diagon Alley with that blonde bimbo. In a feeble attempt of trying to sway his thoughts from Hermione, Draco had arranged to meet Blaise's friend, Lola. It was so stupid and, thankfully, nothing happened. He shuddered internally when he remembered seeing the hurt and shock in Hermione's eyes. And then Hogwarts! The jealousy that Draco had felt seeing Hermione and Jack together had almost overwhelmed him that night on the stairs. He'd been so close to hexing the idiot.

A touch on his arm brought him back to reality and he started, making Hermione giggle.

"Are you okay? You look really angry." She was watching his face mould into a more relaxed expression.

"Sorry," he sighed. "Just thinking."

"Okay." She didn't press him. "We're here now."

Draco glanced up, surprised at how far they had come so quickly. Hermione opened the Entrance Hall doors and they slipped inside. He turned towards her. "I need to go to my room now so I'll see you at dinner. Happy birthday, Hermione."

A little stunned at his abruptness, she watched him walk sombrely off towards the dungeons. Figuring he was still deep in his thoughts, Hermione tried to think nothing of it as she returned to her own quarters, absent-mindedly fiddling with her new quill. On approaching her portrait, a voice called out to her and she turned around.

"Ah, Minerva."

"Yes, I hope you've had a nice birthday." She didn't wait for Hermione to agree. "I just wanted to let you know that Jack Weaver will not be returning to Hogwarts, but he is not serving any time in Azkaban as what he did was perfectly legal." She said somewhat painfully.

Hermione clenched her jaw. "And Daisy?"

"Nothing, she will remain here." Minerva replied stiffly.

Hermione nodded, knowing that Daisy would have a tough year ahead of her. Although she had made a stupid mistake, she was going to look out for the young woman. "Thanks for letting me know, Minerva."

The headmistress smiled thinly before continuing down the corridor. Hermione murmured her password and entered her living room, suddenly feeling very tired. She placed Draco's gift gingerly on the coffee table and lay down on her sofa, closing her eyes.

_She's running through corridors in a castle but she doesn't recognise anything. There are footsteps behind her and she realises she's being chased. She glances over her shoulder and sees Draco running after her, pleading for her to stop. She does. Why was she running from Draco anyway? She feels the rough stone of wall on her shoulders as Draco presses up against her, running hands through her hair and down her body. She swallows nervously and he looks at her hungrily before kissing her roughly on the mouth. She doesn't resist him. He puts kisses down her neck and she groans happily, her own arms winding around his shoulders and pulling him closer. He murmurs her name, but he doesn't stop. He starts to say her name louder and louder until he's shouting it into her collarbone. She pushes him away and he stands still, eyes closed, calling her name. She tries to tell him she's there, she's okay. She yells at him but he doesn't seem to register her voice._

"Hermione!"

_She begins to hit the wall, the sound echoing around them repeatedly. _

"Hermione, what are you doing?"

_The beating is getting louder, too loud, she wants to run away from this place, it was scaring her…_

"Hermione!"

She awoke with a gasp, her face turned into the sofa, inhaling the smell of the fabric. Sitting up groggily, she realised someone was calling her name. It sounded muffled, as if it was behind something. Hermione got up from the sofa and stumbled over to her portrait and pushed it open. Draco was standing there, a plate of food in one hand and his wand in the other. "_Finally_, I was going to force the door open if you didn't answer again."

She laughed, the strangeness of her dream appearing to make more sense.

"What's funny?" Draco frowned, stowing his wand back in his pocket. He invited himself in and moved past her into the living room. "I've brought you dinner since you didn't turn up."

"What?" Hermione shrieked. "What time is it?"

"Quarter past eight." He replied, an eyebrow raised. "Were you asleep?"

She nodded, exhaling in disbelief. "Sorry, I suddenly felt really tired. I only meant to close my eyes for a second, and then I had the weirdest dream!"

He sat down in an armchair. "What happened?"

Hermione opened her mouth to begin, and then closed it again. Was it _really_ a good idea to tell him what happened? Especially since the dream was very … appealing to her. She blushed, not even telling him anything.

He smirked. "One of _those_ dreams, was it?"

"No," she said too quickly. She pulled the plate of food toward her which had been kept warm by a charm. "Thanks for the food, by the way."

"No problem." He looked at her, thoughtfully. "Was I involved?"

"In what?" Hermione asked, her mouth full, knowing full well what he was asking about.

"The dream."

She turned her gaze to him and saw that he had a very mischievous smile upon his face. She tried to reply with, "No, it wasn't like that," but she choked on a piece of chicken. Spluttering, Hermione hurriedly took a sip of water and gasped, noticing Draco watching her very carefully. "Er, well, you were part of it, amongst other … other people."

"Oh? Which other people?" Draco seemed to be enjoying himself immensely.

"Me," she squeaked, nervously, shovelling food into her mouth so she didn't have to talk. Really! Why was he asking all these intrusive questions? On her birthday, too!

He leant forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "How intriguing." He paused. "How many other people?"  
>"One."<p>

"Was that you?" He said, grinning at how he made Hermione so uncomfortable.

She didn't answer, but the severe blushing told Draco all he needed to know.

"Hermione Granger's had a sexual dream about me!" He crowed, holding his hands in the air as if he won a prize. "Was I good?"

His sudden, blunt question made Hermione almost choke on her food again. "We didn't do anything like … sex!"

He looked a little disappointed and his arms fell back into his lap. "What did we do then?"

She mumbled the answer but he didn't catch it, so he asked her to repeat. She was dying of embarrassment. "We kissed."

"Oh." Draco looked at her strangely. "That's not that much."

"It was very passionate," she sniffed in return. "And then you started saying my name over and over, getting louder all the time, and then there was some horrible banging. I woke up then, and realised it was you at the portrait."

Draco stood up when she finished her food. He hadn't said anything about the rest of her dream, but called a house-elf to take away the plate. When the creature had disappeared, he twisted around to see Hermione standing right behind him. Really close.

She was staring at him, biting her lip nervously. Was this really a good idea? Hermione blinked hard before coming to a decision. Yes, yes this was a good idea. A _very _good idea.

Draco's breath hitched in his throat and, swallowing, he hesitantly wrapped his arms around her frame. She leaned into him comfortably, relaxing her shoulders and sighing.

"Hermione."

She looked up at him and he paused, realising that this was his last chance to pull out. His eyes searched her face before claiming her lips with his own. He was gentle, moving his hands up to cradle her face whilst she kissed back fiercely, her arms almost hurting his ribs with her tight embrace. One hand ran through her curls, sweeping them fully off her face. She gave a little moan and tried to get closer to him, loving the feel of his embrace.

"Is this like your dream?" He murmured, pulling away eventually, not believing that this was really happening.

She shook her head and smiled. "No, this is much better."

**_Yeah, I know, really cheesy at the end! But I hoped you enjoyed it! My beta is going to be out of action for two weeks, so I'm afraid I won't be uploading soon. BUT, I will be writing some chapters, so when I do upload, hopefully it will be two at the same time! YEAH. Anyway, pleaseeee review! Thank you!_**


	10. Chapter 10

**_Disclaimer: I own nothing._**

_Chapter 10_

The next day, Hermione awoke feeling rather strange. The memory of last night seemed blurry, and as she regained full consciousness, the details came into focus and she shot up in bed, disturbing Crookshanks. _Merlin_, she thought, clutching the duvet around her, _I kissed Draco Malfoy! And I liked it! _As much as she wanted to deny it, Hermione had enjoyed every moment of that embrace, and the thought of his lips upon hers made her smile involuntarily. Giggling, she stroked Crookshanks and lay back down on her bed, enjoying the freedom of a Sunday morning.

It wasn't until nine-thirty that Hermione eventually headed downstairs, greeting the students with a big grin upon her face. Entering the Great Hall, Hermione spotted Draco just ahead about to sit down at the table. She was close enough to hear his conversation as he strolled past a professor she didn't recognise.

"Morning," he murmured, watching the woman warily.

"Hello," the witch replied shortly. She was small and middle-aged but seemed to have kept in good shape. Her mousy brown hair was tied into a loose plait at the nape of her neck, and a pince-nez was perched on the bridge of her nose.

Taken aback at the cold greeting, Draco made sure to sit a couple of seats away. He had heard from his students that she wasn't the friendliest of professors. He looked up and was pleased to see Hermione coming over to join him. He pretended not to notice as she sat next to the supply professor, but couldn't help peeking over his arm to see how she would react to the woman's responses.

"Hello, I don't believe we've met," Hermione said brightly, holding out her hand. "I'm Professor Granger, Hermione Granger."

"Yes, yes, I know who _you_ are. It's hard not to." The woman peered up at her through her pince-nez with a slight sneer and didn't bother to take the offered hand. "I'm Professor Hubbard, replacing Professor Weaver for now."

"Right," Hermione let her hand fall but still sat down beside her. "How long do you think you'll be here?"

"As long as I need to be." Was the frosty reply.

Hermione didn't know whether to scream or slap the woman across the face. What was _wrong_ with her? "Do you like it?"

"Here?" Professor Hubbard turned to look at her with disdain. "Not particularly."

"And why is that?" Hermione was beginning to lose patience.

"I find it rather insulting when some people manage to get jobs purely because of their _celebrity _status."

Hermione bristled. "Excuse me, Professor Hubbard, but I assure you that if Minerva did not find me perfectly qualified for the job she wouldn't have hired me. And _if_," Hermione continued, getting even more riled up as Professor Hubbard attempted to interrupt her. "_If _you _dare_ suggest that Harry and Ron have blagged their way into the Auror department at the Ministry, you are sorely mistaken! Not to mention everyone else who just _happened_ to help defeat Voldemort and now have respectable jobs!"

Professor Hubbard looked so outraged at Hermione's outburst, that she got to her feet and scurried further down the table.

Fuming, her previous happy mood dissolved, Hermione turned to open a yoghurt which promptly spurted its contents all over her robes. She glared down at the goo staining her clothing. "_Bloody hell_!"

Draco's shoulders were bouncing up and down with suppressed laughter and he leaned over the empty chair between them: "You have outdone yourself."

"Oh, be quiet!" She snapped, siphoning the mess off her robes. She took a deep breath and glared at Draco. "That _woman_ is absolutely crazy!"

Draco, who tried to not take Hermione's tone personally, nodded. "I was waiting for you to find out."

"I didn't think someone could be so – so rude and _bitter_!" Hermione clenched her spoon as she looked down the table to where the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor was sat. "What on earth made Minerva hire that daft bat?"

Draco shrugged at a complete loss. "I have no idea. I think people may still feel the job is jinxed or something." He sighed. "It'll be good to get a decent professor in eventually."

Her posture relaxed as she suddenly mumbled: "Like Lupin," She shook her head, the grief inside her dispelling the anger. "Ugh, so awful."

Draco suddenly felt extremely awkward. He had openly expressed his scorn for Remus Lupin back in third year and now regretted his actions. Lupin had been an excellent professor, as much as he hated to admit it back then, and he whole-heartedly agreed with Hermione about his death. It didn't even make a difference if he had been a werewolf or not anymore. Sure, it had been a little alarming at first, but that didn't make him any worse than the rest of the people who died. _Just another one of my stupid prejudices that I've been brought up on, _Draco thought bitterly. _What a waste of a life, or rather, lives_. He bit his lip as his thoughts trailed back to the many who had died in order to defeat Voldemort – all of those were wasted lives. None of them deserved to be less valued than the next.

"Sorry," Hermione glanced at him.

"What for?"

"Well, you never really _liked_ him, did you?" Hermione said slowly, almost regretting her words immediately once they'd left her mouth.

"How can you say that?" Draco fumed, clenching his fists. "I was a kid, Hermione; brought up under the regime of my father to believe that anyone or anything less than a Pureblood was a waste of space!"

"Y-you're right, I'm sorry, I don't know why I said that." She stammered nervously, edging further away in her chair.

"I don't know either!" He hissed, his eyes narrowing. "I thought you knew better than to judge me. Do any of the past four months mean anything to you? Does _last night_?" He leaned further over the empty chair as he spoke. "How could you say something like that to me?"

She gulped, and got up from her chair. "I'm sorry, I'll go and I'll talk to you later on." Not glancing back, Hermione left the Great Hall in a hurry, guilt seeping into her heart. _Stupid, stupid girl!_ She chided herself mentally and paused in a deserted corridor to gather her thoughts. Why in Merlin's name did she say that? Draco was completely right – she had no place to criticise him in his actions which had been drummed into him since birth. There was no doubt that she had to apologise to him, and she resolved to stand outside the Great Hall until he came back out.

Hermione wandered the few metres back towards the entrance and shifted from foot to foot, nervously waiting for him to appear. Students trickled out at different times, relishing the fact they didn't have any classes to go to, and Hermione jumped every time she saw a tall, blond haired man. It seemed Draco was deliberately taking his time, or he had already left the Great Hall and Hermione had missed him. She peeked around the large door frame and her eyes fell onto a very familiar chest. Flicking them up to his face, she saw him regard her with a little confusion, before a cold mask hid his features.

"Yes?"

"Draco, I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry." She implored, waving her hands around her head. "I don't know _why_ I said it – it was very immature and judgemental and cruel and mean and-"

"It's alright, Granger, I get it." Draco interrupted her flow, still not displaying any kind of emotion.

She swallowed, noticing that he had referred to her by her surname. Did that mean …? Oh, Merlin, it couldn't mean that he didn't want anything to do with her anymore, could it? "Granger?" she repeated stupidly.

"Yes, _Granger_. That's your last name, right?" He asked sardonically, beginning to walk away.

"B-but – but what about Hermione?"

"I can call you Granger when I'm pissed with you, okay?" He whirled around, eyes flashing angrily, albeit not as furious as before. "Is that alright, your highness?"

"Okay," she replied meekly, not daring to follow him. "I'm sorry!"

"I know," he called back, disappearing down towards the dungeons.

Hermione sighed, feeling slightly better than she did five minutes previously, but nothing compared to her mood when she had woken up. Today was just a mess, she decided gloomily. If only Hagrid were here, she would go down and talk to the half-giant. Sighing, she wandered back towards her quarters, her thoughts filled with nothing but Draco Malfoy.

* * *

><p>The next few weeks passed by quickly without incident, and before long it was the first Quidditch match of the season - Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff. She had decided to go along to a couple of the practices in the week and was confident that they had this match in the bag. Of course, the seeker – and also Captain – was nothing on Harry, but he had the newest version of the Firebolt and it was extremely fast. So it was with assurance on the Saturday morning that Hermione headed down to the pitch, making sure to keep away from Pomona Sprout.<p>

Professor Flitwick was just expressing his excitement for the match when she caught Draco's figure up ahead, walking alone towards the stands. He had remained cold and aloof to her since her stupid comment, and it was getting to the point where Hermione didn't know what else she could do. She had apologised over and over again, and he still seemed to avoid her whenever she came near him. She was beginning to find it a little immature, and if he didn't pull himself together soon, she was going to repeat the stunt she pulled in third year. Maybe not so violently, but she needed to get his attention!

Hermione joined the professors up in the stands and positioned herself so she was sitting directly behind Draco. She would try and annoy him in some way or another during the game. Her attention, however, was captured when the players strolled onto the pitch, shielding their eyes against the unusual glare of the October sun. She hooted loudly once the balls were released and Madam Hooch had signalled the beginning of the match.

"And they're off! Diggle of Hufflepuff whacking a Bludger straight towards Sam Briar, Gryffindor's seeker!"

The commentator, Hermione noticed with amusement, was Jimmy from her seventh year Transfiguration class. With a wry smile, Hermione remembered Lee Jordan's humorous and completely biased comments during the Quidditch matches when he was there.

"- Lloyd chucks the Quaffle to Andrews, Emmerson tries to block Andrews, ANDREWS SCORES! Ten points to Gryffindor!" Jimmy yelled, punching the air triumphantly. He didn't try to hide his satisfaction for his House taking the lead.

Hermione cheered and yelled for her House, accidently on purpose knocking her hand into Draco's head, who seemed to just stand there and watch, appearing incredibly bored.

"Excuse me," he growled, turning around to face Hermione. When he realised who it was, he clenched his jaw and whirled back to face the game and ignored her for the rest of the match.

In the next ten minutes, Hermione groaned as Hufflepuff secured three goals, making the score thirty-ten. They had to win this game to give them a good lead for the rest of the season! Her eyes kept moving to the back of Draco's head, however, and he didn't seem to have moved an inch.

Suddenly, "Has Briar spotted the Snitch?" Jimmy yelled excitedly as a blur of red and gold sped past the stands, extracting an 'Ooooh' from the crowd. "Unfortunately, none of the brooms out here are a match for the new Firebolt, not even its old model. Hamley is going to be lucky if he catches up with Briar!"

Hermione snorted. That was an understatement. Hamley was far behind Briar who was speeding towards the ground now, hand outstretched ready to –

"And he's done it! Sam Briar has caught the Snitch! One-hundred-and-sixty points to thirty! Unlucky Hufflepuff!" Jimmy crowed, earning a large scowl from Professor Sprout.

Hermione clapped loudly and beamed down at the team who were waving their broomsticks in the air triumphantly.

"Congratulations, Hermione." Minerva said, giving her a true smile. "I expect to see Gryffindor win the Quidditch Cup this year." She added in a hushed whisper as Professor Sprout was approaching with a sour smile.

"Well done," she said stiffly, offering Hermione a handshake.

Hermione took it, trying to look as if the win didn't faze her. "Thank you, Pomona. It was a good game."

The woman waddled away with a curt nod and Hermione was surprised to see Draco standing near her, as if he was waiting to speak to her.

"Congratulations on your first win!" Squeaked Professor Flitwick, "But I hope to beat you when we play!"

Hermione laughed and then turned to Draco, taking a deep breath. The stands around them emptied and soon, they were the last around the pitch, with a few stragglers making their way slowly back towards the castle. "Everything okay?" She asked hesitantly.

"Not really." He replied drily.

"Oh," Hermione looked away, shuffling her feet.

"Er, sorry about earlier. I don't know what came over me." Draco said hurriedly, scratching the back of his head the way he did when he was nervous.  
>She raised an eyebrow. "Earlier? Draco, you've practically been ignoring me for the past three weeks. What's been going on?"<p>

"I have?" He asked, genuinely surprised.

"Don't play dumb," she warned, placing her hands on her hips. "You've probably spoken to me about three times this past week. I know I upset you about what I said, and I apologised, _many times_, but the ball is in your court."

"Sorry?" he seemed confused by the Muggle expression.

"It means it's up to you now," she waved a hand impatiently. "I think you've been acting quite immature about the whole situation. I would have thought you'd moved on by now and we'd be back to normal."

"Hermione, I'm fine with you. I have no idea what you're talking about!" Draco said earnestly. "I know I may have been acting a little off recently," Hermione snorted, "but I didn't mean to … alienate you."

"You've done just that, Draco." She shook her head. "What's happened?"

He looked down and shoved a hand into his robes before pulling out a crumpled piece of parchment. He offered it to her. "Read it."

Curious, Hermione gently unfolded the letter and began to read.

_Draco,_

_It has come to our concern that the Muggle-born Hermione Granger is working at Hogwarts with you. While we are unhappy about you working there, we have begun to understand that it is something you enjoy. This may seem strange to you, but your father and I have discussed this at great length, and we have come to the conclusion that it would be a very good idea if you are seen with her. Although we were supporting the Dark Lord for a very long time until the Final Battle, your father and I deeply regret ever being involved with him and we see how it has damaged your life. This is why we think it will be a great boost to the Malfoy name if you appear to be civil with one of the 'Golden Trio'. _

_Best wishes,_

_Your parents. _

Hermione wordlessly handed the parchment back to Draco who glanced at her with a worried expression. He put it back into his pocket and leant on the railing of the stand, staring out into the pitch.

"So, they don't speak to you for about two years and then write a letter saying _that_?" Hermione ran a hand through her hair. "I don't get it."

"I'm sorry," he mumbled.

"It's not _your_ fault, Draco!" Hermione said, amazed that he thought it was. "Excuse me for saying, but your family have apparently seen the error of their ways, but are still using me to benefit your family name!"

"They're Slytherins." He muttered, not looking back at her. "I sent them a letter in return."

"What did you say?" She dreaded the answer.

"'Stay out of my social life. Draco.' I wonder how they'll take it." He added with a hint of amusement to his voice.

Hermione breathed a silent sigh of relief and joined him at the railing. "So, these past three weeks, you haven't been annoyed with me?"

"No," he shook his head and hung it low. "I received the letter a couple of days after your incessant apologising on that Sunday and it's been bothering me ever since. I didn't mean to be so offhand."

"It's okay … just tell me what's happened next time before I get all paranoid." She squeezed his shoulder comfortingly. "It'll be okay."

He smiled sadly. "I hope so."

Hermione's stomach suddenly rumbled loudly. "Oh, yeah, food."

Draco laughed. "It's half-past one. We better grab some before it goes!" She turned to go but he grabbed her by the wrist. "I never actually said 'congratulations'. So …"

He bent his head towards hers and gave her a soft kiss. It wasn't like their first – this was much gentler and conveyed his apology better than he did in words.

Hermione pulled away after several minutes, blushing. "Someone might see us, and I'm _really_ hungry."

* * *

><p>Hermione had a new spring in her step when she walked the corridors of Hogwarts. She seemed to be in such a good mood all the time that even her students began to notice, most notably her sixth and seventh years. Winning the first Quidditch game of the season didn't help either. After her quick 'congratulatory kiss' on the stands, they had had lunch and headed back towards Hermione's quarters, stealing another smooch in a deserted corridor which quickly turned into a passionate make-out session, and they had almost been interrupted by Filch stomping down the corridor with Mrs Norris glaring at them with her wide eyes. They had resolved to try and keep their relationship as quiet as possible, for as long as possible. That, however, was going to be tough considering they kept sending each other sneaky looks and snorting into whatever was in front of them, receiving very wary glances from onlookers.<p>

It was one afternoon, the day before Halloween, Hermione was questioned by a sixth year girl whom she was rather fond of. Georgia Drewer, a red-haired Ravenclaw, raised her hand three-quarters of the way through the lesson after Hermione began humming to herself.

"Yes, Georgia." Hermione smiled warmly at the girl.

"Professor, excuse me for asking, but are you – are you pregnant?" Several other students broke into hurried whispers at the bluntness of the question, but also because they had also been wondering the same thing.

"No!" Hermione replied, laughing. "What makes you say that?"

"Well," Georgia shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "It's just that you seem awfully _happy_ all the time and you seem to be … glowing."

A couple of the other sixth years sniggered.

"Georgia, I assure you I am not pregnant, and I don't plan to be anytime soon. As for my happiness … well, I'm allowed to be happy, right?" Hermione challenged her, smirking.

Georgia blushed and looked down at the textbook they were working through. "Of course, I'm sorry, Professor."

"It's no problem," Hermione winked, and settled back into her chair.

"Is it a man, then?" Georgia suddenly blurted out, a few minutes later.

At this, Hermione licked her lips before smiling pleasantly. "It could well be."

One of the other girls in Ravenclaw, Annabella, clapped her hands excitedly. "Ooh, Professor, _please_ say? Is it someone in the school? Is it -" she glanced at Georgia and they both giggled. "Is it Professor Malfoy?" Annabella finished in a hushed whisper.

A couple of the boys groaned and turned back to their work, bored with the conversation once it turned to love interests.

Hermione tried to appear as affronted as possible. "Excuse me? Why on earth would you think that, Annabella? Our relationship is strictly professional."

"We've heard _rumours_."

"Rumours?" Hermione asked, injecting surprise into her voice. "And what do these rumours say?"

"That you've been …" Annabella broke off and bit her lip. "Don't think me bad saying this, Professor."

"I take it all in stride." Hermione said gently.

"Well, they say that you've been kissing and stuff, like, everywhere." She finally said awkwardly.

Hermione's stomach convulsed nervously, although only part of what Annabella had said was true. Yes, they had been kissing, but it wasn't _everywhere_. Only in deserted corridors, outside their quarters and occasionally in the empty staffroom. Maybe those corridors weren't as empty as they had thought … Hermione gripped the desk as she spoke. "Rumours are rumours, Annabella. Don't believe everything you hear."

"So it's not true?" Georgia asked, looking disappointed. "You'd look _so_ cute together."

Hermione had to bite her lip to stop herself from laughing. "Thanks, Georgia, but there's nothing going on. Now, would you all return to your work, please?"

The two girls reluctantly picked up their quills, but not without Annabella whispering: "He's so _fit_, though."

_Yes, yes he is. _Hermione mused to herself, trying to focus on the marking she had to complete in front of her. She sighed as another first year had put the incorrect definition of a switching spell. Unhappily, she gave the paper a solid _P_. Was it silly that she felt guilty in giving bad grades? She remembered Professor Snape who seemed to relish handing out dismal marks, unless that was just to her, Ron, Harry and Gryffindors in general.

The rest of the lesson passed in silence with no more awkward questions, and Hermione breathed a sigh of relief when the bell rang.

"No homework for this lesson, but we'll be starting some new stuff on Monday!" Hermione called out as the students left, eager to have lunch.

She had just finished packing up her things when there was a light knock on the door. Looking up, she beamed when Draco entered and closed the door behind him.

"Hello," he came to stand in front of her desk.

"You shouldn't really be here!" She peeked over his shoulder at the door. "There's a rumour going around the school that we're together!"

"Well, that's true." He said, not really seeing the problem.

Hermione's mouth opened a little, whilst inside her heart leapt with joy. It was the first time that he had openly said that they were some kind of couple. Her lips twitched as she fought them from turning into a goofy smile. She tried to say, as steadily as possible, "Really?"

"Yes," He looked genuinely puzzled as he sat on her desk, blond hair falling over his forehead. "What's the problem, Hermione?"

"It's just all," she took a deep breath, "so sudden and unbelievable. I mean, this past month has passed so quickly and … I just can't believe it."

Draco lifted his mouth in a half smile. "I have to say, I can. It's very believable to me."

Hermione's heart swelled inside her and she felt her eyes begin to prick with tears. She looked down quickly, fastening her bag even though it was already tied firmly shut.

"Hermione?" He tried to look under her hair to see her face. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing!" She said, blinking away the tears. She looked up and smiled. "I'm fine."

There was a sudden knock at the door and Draco leapt off the desk, clearing his throat. Minerva McGonagall stepped into the classroom, gave Draco an appraising look before turning to Hermione.

"I daresay you know both your Houses are playing each other in a week's time." Minerva began and when they both nodded she carried on. "But also, I have decided that this year we will host another Yule Ball, considering the one we had several years ago was a big success."

Hermione nodded but was slightly perplexed as to why she was telling them this.

"The professors, as per tradition, organise the event, but this year," Minerva paused at this moment, gauging their reactions before carrying on. "I would like you both to sort it out."

Draco blanched. "Headmistress, you want Hermione and I to organise the ball on _our own_?"

"Yes," she replied curtly. "It will not only promote house unity amongst the students, but also show that school grudges do not last … evidently."

Hermione sighed, "We'll do it, Minerva."

"_Thank_ you, Hermione," McGonagall smiled whilst Draco glared at her with outrage. "I'll leave you to it, then."

"_Hermione_!" Draco hissed, once the headmistress had left the room. "How could you agree to this? We can't organise this on our own! And promoting house unity," he scoffed, "it's preposterous!"

Hermione shrugged. "She wasn't going to let it go, Draco. She would have found a way to make us do it." She sent him a sympathetic look. "Anyway, we'll be fine. Your summer ball was wonderful."

Draco scowled. "Yeah, but all I had to do was hire a band and shove a marquee up in the garden. House elves did all the food. We can't exactly do that here."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "We have house-elves here, Draco. Look, let's go to lunch and think about it another time. All I know for now is that it will be held on the 21st of December."

Draco paused in his sulking to look momentarily surprised. "How do you know that?"

"It's the winter solstice this year."

"Oh." Draco seemed stumped and Hermione took that as a chance to leave the classroom and head for the Great Hall. "Wait!"

Hermione grimaced as he caught up with her and they continued on. "Draco, is this really a good idea with that rumour circulating?"

He shrugged, not seeming to care.

She carried on in a worried voice. "It's not professional to have a relationship in a workplace – this could really complicate things!" She added in a low hiss as a first year ambled past them.

"I think Minerva already knows," he said.

"_What_?" She shrieked, causing the first year to look back round, scared.

"Well, you saw her when she came in." Draco didn't need to explain. Hermione remembered the all too pointed stare she gave when she looked at them both. "I don't think she minds, to be honest."

"Even so," Hermione snapped, stopping outside the Great Hall doors. "We still can't let everyone know! We should go in separately." She added as an afterthought.

Draco rolled his eyes and sauntered into the Great Hall, finding a place up at the professor's table, avoiding Professor Hubbard completely. Unfortunately, Minerva still hadn't found a willing replacement for Jack Weaver who didn't believe they were going to die after a year. A few minutes later, Hermione joined him at the table, sending the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor a dark look.

"I can't stand that woman," She said in a hushed whisper. "She's almost as bad as Umbridge!"

"That's a bit extreme, don't you think?" Draco paled.

"No. Eric Ernest was put in detention for a week for giving in homework a quarter of an inch off the required length." Hermione said angrily. "She's a nightmare."

"Hopefully she'll be gone soon," he said, flexing his long fingers. "Or I'll do something about it."

"Draco!" Hermione laughed and slapped him lightly on the arm.

"Hey! I thought you said we can't have any contact!" Draco teased. "That reminds me; I got a reply from my parents."

"Oh really? What did it say?"

"'We hope you haven't befriended the young lady. We're doing this for your best interests.'" He rolled his eyes and clenched his jaw. "I sent them back a letter saying something which shouldn't be repeated."

"Oh, Draco," Hermione sighed heavily. "Don't become … _estranged_ from your parents over this."

"They wouldn't do that, don't worry. They need me so someone will carry on the Malfoy lineage." He laughed bitterly.

She placed a gentle hand on his forearm which was hidden from view. "It'll come together, don't worry."

"I hope so, Hermione. I really do."

**_Hi guys, so sorry for the long wait! But it's up now and chapter 11 should be following in the next couple of days! I'm currently writing chapter 12 so we should be back to normal after that! Hope you've all had great summers and, if you've had results, I hope they were what you wanted! Please review - it honestly makes my day!_**


	11. Chapter 11

**_Disclaimer: I own nothing._**

_Chapter 11_

"You do realise we only have a month and a half to organise the stupid ball?" Draco said the following evening, lying on the sofa in his quarters. Hermione was curled up at the opposite end, his feet resting in her lap whilst she stared into space, deep in thought. It was approaching half-past nine, and they had gotten in from the grand Halloween feast not half an hour ago. They were completely stuffed from the food, but had thoroughly enjoyed the atmosphere in the Great Hall as a lot of the ghosts decided to make an entrance.

"Hermione?" He asked when she didn't respond.

"Yes," she murmured, not looking at him. "I've just realised something."

"What?" he asked sitting up on his elbows, worry creasing his forehead.

She grimaced. "We'll have to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas this year because of the ball. So I won't be able to spend it with my parents or at The Burrow."

Draco sighed and lay back down again. "I'm glad."

Hermione finally looked at him with shock. "_Why_?"

"My parents haven't spoken to me in two years until a few weeks ago, so for the last two Christmases I've been here anyway. There's nowhere else for me to go." He said flatly, staring up at the ceiling. He felt a gentle touch on his hand and he smiled softly in return.

"Doesn't your mother want to talk to you?" Hermione asked hesitantly. She hurriedly tried to explain her question. "I mean, she always seemed more … _forgiving_? Take Harry for example. She lied, maybe not necessarily for him, but she did nevertheless, which saved his life."

Draco absorbed her words and didn't reply for a moment. Then, "I guess. I don't know what she thinks anymore, Hermione. I'm at a loss and I don't know what to do." His voice broke.

She felt his pain and she shifted her position so she could wriggle up beside him on the sofa. Her head now resting on her elbow by his face, she stroked his hair with the other hand whilst he scrunched up his features, trying not to let tears fall. "Oh, Draco, just let it out. Let it all out."

He tried to ignore her but it became too much, and he let out a raw sob as tears began to course down his cheeks. "I don't get it, Hermione, I just don't." He said thickly, letting Hermione tenderly wipe the salty water off his face. "Why won't they talk to me?"

Not having an answer, she began to plant feathery kisses along the side of his face until he suddenly turned, enclosing her in a cocoon with his arms, and finding her mouth with his own as he sought after the comfort and the love he so desperately wanted. He started kissing along her jaw, moving down to her neck and he bit her gently there, sucking at a point which he knew would leave a mark. Hermione's hands stopped midway through his hair as she gasped, the sensation he was creating sending little jolts through her body.

He stopped suddenly, drawing her closer to him and she rested her head in the crook of his neck. They stayed there for a while, Hermione's eyes beginning to drift shut. She was so comfortable lying here in his embrace, so close to him. It just felt _right_. A smile tugged at her lips at the thought.

"Hermione," he whispered, stroking her cheek with a finger. "I hate to say it but you have to go."

She nodded, her eyes still shut in a state of bliss, but then slowly and reluctantly, she pulled her stiff body out of his warm arms to sit up on the sofa. "We didn't get much done, did we?" She gestured to a piece of parchment they had planned to write ideas for the Yule Ball on.

"No," he agreed, laughing slightly. "Would you like me to walk you back to your room? It's a long way from the dungeons to the seventh floor."

"Ahh, always the gentleman," Hermione kissed him on the cheek before getting up from the sofa. "I'm sure I'll be fine, though thank you."

"You're meant to say, 'Ooh, yes please, Draco!' Any normal girl would." He said, irritated, standing up quickly.

"But I'm not normal, am I?" She winked and picked up her wand before heading towards the portrait.

"True," he replied, amused. He followed her but stopped at the opening. "Good night, Hermione."

"Good night, Draco."

He watched her disappear towards the dungeon steps before letting the portrait door close behind him as he collapsed back onto his sofa. His thoughts meandered to his parents again, and he couldn't help but feel stupid for crying in front of Hermione. Of course, she'd probably say that it's good to cry and it shows you're human. Rolling his eyes, Draco picked up the blank sheet of parchment Hermione had pointed to earlier. He stared at it for a while, before summoning his quill. He sat up and went over to his writing desk; thinking all the while of what he was going to write. He twirled the quill in his long fingers before finally dipping it into some ink and writing two words:

Dear mother,

There, he paused. What should he say? _What have I done wrong to make you ignore me? _ No, that wouldn't go down well. Or, would being blunt and straight to the point show that he was fed up rather than beating around the bush? He tapped the quill against his chin thoughtfully and then finally continued the letter to his mother, praying silently that his father wouldn't read it.

_For the past two years, you have ignored me because I took up the position as Potions Master and Head of Slytherin House at Hogwarts. For any parent, this would make them incredibly proud. For you and father, it seems, it has done the opposite. Then, out of the blue, you write me a letter about Granger teaching here. Of all the important things you could tell me, any news of the family or of yourselves, you decide to tell me whether or not to be friends with, and I dare say it, a remarkable woman. I don't care if she's Muggleborn – she's a damn-sight better than any of the women you tried to set me up with. Did you actually believe the whole Pureblood thing? This is what I don't understand; I don't see what you are trying to achieve. I'm not going to let you organise my social life, you or father, and if I end up hanging around with people who you deem are 'unsuitable' then so be it. I still respect and love you both very much, please don't forget that. I would prefer it if this letter was not read by father, and I apologise for my letter sent yesterday – it was rather rude._

_Love,_

_Draco._

Yawning, he put down his quill and almost called his owl. He had doubts about sending this letter. After several moments of opening his mouth to call for Aquila, a handsome tawny owl he bought the year before, he finally decided to ask Hermione about it in the morning. He folded the letter in half and left to get ready for bed.

Hermione, however, was still awake, lying in her bed unable to sleep. Her thoughts were consumed by Draco's obvious pain over his parent's disdain invoked by his position at Hogwarts. At first, she had never thought Draco the type of person to be so upset over his parents not talking to him. Then, after realising how silly that sounded, she remembered how close the three of them sat together at the end of the Final Battle, and how Narcissa lied to Voldemort about Harry's death, just to find out if her son was alive. It didn't seem to add up as to why they were ignoring him for just working at Hogwarts, though. It was some consolation to know, however, that his parents regretted ever getting involved with the Dark Lord. Unless that was just talk? Hermione groaned loudly, wanting her head to shut up with its internal mind battles.

She finally succumbed to sleep at three in the morning and was extremely grateful for the fact that it was a Friday – that meant one free period first thing. She awoke at quarter-to-ten - feeling marginally more refreshed - and hoped that the professors didn't notice her absence that morning.

"Dippy!" She called an elf which she had grown particularly fond of over the past couple of weeks. The little creature had seemed to always be the one to fetch her and Draco a sneaky bottle of wine or a small snack plate.

The elf appeared with a _crack _and bowed low. "Yes, miss?"

"I overslept this morning; could I possibly have something to eat and some orange juice, please?" Hermione asked kindly, smiling widely at Dippy.

She nodded in return, her big ears flapping and eyes shining happily. "Of course, Dippy will be right back!"

"Thank you, Dippy!"

The elf left with another _crack_ leaving Hermione to hurriedly get dressed into her robes. She ran a comb through her messy hair making some of it worse than before. She gave up just as the elf reappeared, armed with a plate stacked with toast, eggs and bacon, and in the other hand, a large glass of orange juice. When Dippy had gone, Hermione wolfed down the food, not realising how hungry she had actually been, downed the juice, sent a cleaning charm over her face and teeth and hurried out of her quarters for the first lesson of the day.

* * *

><p>"Hermione, we really need to sort out stuff for the Yule Ball." Draco murmured to her urgently at lunchtime, plopping a large amount of mashed potato on his plate. "Parents will need to know their children are staying at school before organising Christmas events."<p>

"I know, I know," Hermione said exasperatedly. She chuckled. "You know, I didn't think you'd be so organised."

He shrugged. "I'm not really; I just know we need to get this done."

"Sure, okay, let's start now." Hermione moved her plate away and faced him. "What theme?"

"Theme?" Draco paused, the fork halfway to his mouth. "We need a theme?"

"Well, I think it would be nice." She pointed out. "How about a masquerade ball?"

Draco pulled a face. "I don't think that'd be a good idea. It's a bit … grown up?"

"Fair point." Hermione drummed her fingers against the table.

"Hermione," Draco began hesitantly. "Considering this is a Yule Ball, don't you think it already has a theme? Christmas?"

She looked as if she'd been slapped. "Wow. I am _stupid_. Yes, of course … how silly of me. I'm overcomplicating things as usual!"

He shook his head, no. "You weren't. You're just trying to make this amazing, and it will be. _I'm _helping organise this." He added with an arrogant smirk and Hermione resisted the temptation to kiss it off, remembering they were at the professor's table in the Great Hall.

Instead, she just rolled her eyes and pulled her plate back towards her. "We need to put a notice up, sharpish."

Draco nodded beside her and then growled as Professor Hubbard came and sat next to him – the only space available on the table. "Afternoon," he said stiffly. Although his parents weren't the best when it came to decisions concerning the welfare of wizards, they had at least taught Draco correct manners and decorum.

Professor Hubbard nodded in return, remaining tight-lipped and grumpy as always. There was an awkward silence as none of the trio spoke, but then: "Miss Hermione Granger, you'll be pleased to know Minerva has found a replacement."  
>Hermione didn't try to hide her excitement. "Really? When do they start?"<p>

"On Monday." The cold, blue eyes of the substitute professor narrowed dangerously as Hermione beamed openly at her response. "I'll be pleased to leave."

Hermione bit back her reply, knowing that it wouldn't help her whatsoever. A 'me too,' would not be the smartest move. So, instead, she replied with a lie. "You'll be missed."

Professor Hubbard snorted. "I've had enough lunch. Excuse me."

When she was out of earshot, Hermione started to snigger loudly and Draco watched her bemusedly.

"Did your parents teach you any manners?" He shook his head as she continued to laugh. "What did you say they were? Teeth healers or something?"

"Dentists!" Hermione gasped between breaths. "It's a well-paid profession, and yes, they did teach me manners. But people like _her_ are just too infuriating to bother with."

"Okay, Hermione, okay."

She stopped laughing and turned abruptly serious. "You aren't sticking up for her, are you?"

"No," he said calmly. "I just think you should have been a little more discreet in your actions."

Hermione darkened and grumbled under her breath, not talking to Draco for the rest of lunch.

By the end of the day, Hermione was thoroughly exhausted. Draco had broken through her silent treatment and insisted they get a notice up about the Yule Ball as soon as possible, so by three o'clock, several simple yet eye-catching posters were up on the notice boards in the House common rooms and outside the Great Hall. She had to deal with a very excited first year class last lesson, and felt awful when she had to break it to them that they weren't allowed to attend unless they were asked by a student of fourth year or above. They were then downright sour for the rest of the period, and Hermione felt drained when she returned to her quarters, summoning Dippy for a large hot chocolate.

When the warm beverage had appeared, Hermione collapsed into her writing desk and started a letter to Ginny. She didn't know why she was telling her about her new relationship with Draco – it just seemed appropriate since they were best friends. Plus, Hermione felt like she had to tell _someone_ and Ginny seem to be the best person. She finished the letter with a '_hope the bump's alright, and please don't tell Harry or Ron'_. Although her two male best friends had been okay with her going to Draco's Summer Ball, she guessed they wouldn't take too kindly to her relationship with the man. She had no idea when she would break it to them … perhaps during the summer. Hermione froze as she folded the parchment. The summer? Did she expect them to still be together at that point? Did she believe that this was going to be a long-term thing? Heat flooded through Hermione and she felt slightly giddy at the thought, but it was _excitement_. She _wanted_ it to be a long-lasting relationship.

She almost laughed aloud as she left her quarters to go to the owlery before she headed back down to the Great Hall. Much to her surprise, she spotted a shock of white-blond hair between a few of the school owls.

"Draco?" she asked, hesitantly, preparing to feel stupid if it wasn't him. Her fears were quashed when he responded with a grunt.

"You're up here sending a letter?" She seemed surprised.

"That's what one tends to do when they go to the owlery, Hermione." He replied sardonically, appearing in front of her, his own tawny owl, Aquila, perched comfortably on his arm. "But that reminds me. Would you mind reading this?"

He held out a letter she saw was addressed to his mother. Telling him to wait for a moment, she coaxed down one of the school owls and attached her own letter to its leg and sent it out of the window. She took Draco's letter and began to read it, feeling rather intrusive. But when she had seen what he had written, a sudden warmth exploded in her chest. He had stuck up for her, reprimanded his parents in the nicest possible way and seemed to be prepared for a break-down of his relationship with them.

"Draco," she said softly, handing him back the parchment. "You really didn't need to say all that."

"I did," he replied firmly, attaching it to Aquila's leg. "I don't think they realise how stupid they're being. Anyway, they needed a _polite_ letter from me explaining how I feel." He added with a smirk.

They watched as his bird disappeared into the clouds before slowly heading back towards the castle.

"I felt really guilty today," Hermione said as they re-entered the castle. When Draco looked at her questioningly, she continued. "The first years didn't take too kindly to the news that only fourth year and above could go, unless they were asked."  
>Draco laughed loudly, the sound echoing nicely in the cavernous Entrance Hall. "Didn't we put that on the notices?"<p>

She shrugged. "I think so. I guess they just saw the heading and ignored everything else."

"They'll have their chance one day."

They entered the Great Hall together for dinner, still chuckling about the first years, and received several curious looks from professors and older students. Neither Hermione nor Draco noticed but when she spotted Minerva giving her a rather knowing look, Hermione was suddenly very aware of their actions.

"Draco!" She hissed as they sat down. "We need to look more annoyed with each other!"

His good mood vanished and he scowled at her. "And here I was thinking you didn't notice."  
>"What?" She asked, pausing in her attempt to appear irritated.<p>

"I _know _they're giving us strange looks, but Hermione," he held up his hand as she went to interrupt him. "I don't care."

She only stared.

"We're trying to keep this a secret now, but when are you going to tell everyone?" He asked softly, gesturing lightly with his hand. "Do you think your friends would take it better if you said 'hey, I'm with Draco Malfoy,' or 'hey, I've been with Draco Malfoy for about a year now, and we're getting married in a few months.'?"

Hermione swallowed.

"Somehow," he said, carrying on. "I don't think they'd trust you as much. And what about the Weaselette? Ginny? She'd be pretty miffed if you didn-"

"Alright!" she suddenly snapped, "I'll tell them."

He looked at her smugly and stretched his arms, pleased with his accomplishment.

"But," she began with a harsh smile, "you have to tell your parents. Don't you think that's fair?"

Draco seemed to shrink and he held his breath. Exhaling, "Fine, it's a deal. You tell your cronies and I'll tell my bloody parents."

Now it was Hermione's turn to look triumphant. She didn't say anything else to him throughout dinner and it was only when she got up to leave that he grabbed her wrist, causing her to shriek. She glared down at him and blushed when people looked their way but could have died on the spot when Draco pressed his lips to her hand very gently. The sensation she normally felt when Draco kissed her was swallowed by anger and shock and she quickly ripped her hand away, stalking out of the Great Hall.

His cheek! What made him suddenly do that? She stomped her way back to her quarters, not glancing at anyone or anything as she went, and then proceeded to pace her living room. Crookshanks mewed at her but she ignored him so he left with his fur sticking out on end. She couldn't understand why Draco had to do _that _in front of everybody!

"Stupid, idiotic, slimy Slytherin ferret!" She screamed aloud and then felt slightly calmer as she sat down and summoned Dippy for a hot chocolate.

Suddenly, the floo burst into life, startling Hermione so she spilt the hot chocolate down her front. "Ginny!" she exclaimed, dabbing gingerly at her robes. "What are you doing here? How did you get through anyway?"

Her best friend stared at her shrewdly. "What do you think, Hermione? I got your letter about ten minutes ago. And I don't know about Hogwarts' security, all I know is I can get in."

"Oh yeah," she'd forgotten she'd sent that. She bit her lip. "So?"

"Why didn't you tell me before?" She pouted and flopped down on the sofa, upsetting the drink once again.

"Do you mind, Gin? I'd actually like to have some of my drink rather than wasting it down my clothes." She siphoned the sticky mess off with her wand.

"Sorry." Ginny moved on quickly. "When did it start?"

"Start?"

"Your attraction, silly."

"I dunno," Hermione shrugged, sipping the half full drink. "Probably around the Summer Ball. I thought he was handsome but I didn't _fancy_ him. You know, you can appreciate someone's looks without liking them." She then thought for a moment. "It was quite quick, actually. He was being a complete arse at the beginning of the school year because I think he was jealous."

Ginny snorted. "Jealous? Of who?"

"Jack Weaver – turned out to be some complete perv. He was the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor and we hit it off quite well." She paused. "I think it was sometime between the Summer Ball and my birthday."

"Oh yeah!" Ginny said abruptly, pointing her finger in Hermione's face. "How come you never told me about the kiss sooner? He kissed you on your birthday – that was like … two and a half months ago!"

Embarrassed, Hermione looked down at her now empty mug. "I thought you would all be upset."

"Herms, I'm only upset you didn't tell me." Ginny said gently.

"Oh, Ginny!" Hermione whined. "Please don't start with that again."

"Okay, okay, just kidding." She winked good-naturedly. "So, at the moment, you are actually 'with' Draco?"

Hermione nodded. "We just made a deal at dinner."

"A deal?"

"I would tell you guys and he'd tell his parents. He doesn't want to it to be kept a secret." She whispered dumbly.

"Oh, that's why you were looking so angry and bitter when I arrived." Ginny nodded her head slowly and then laughed. "Oh come on, Hermione, it's not that bad. Everyone would find out eventually – sooner you tell them the better."

"That's what he said."

"Well, that's sorted then." She said brightly. "I'll help, Hermione, it'll be fine! Harry will take it in his stride and Ron … well, Ron's Ron."

"Exactly," Hermione said dully.

"Stop caring so much about what other people think! You should be happy too, you know." Ginny chastised but took hold of her hand gently. "It'll be fine. Now, when's your next big event as Gryffindor Head?"

The conversation took a definite upturn for Hermione as they discussed the up-coming Quidditch match of Gryffindor versus Slytherin in two weeks time, and the Christmas Ball the following month. It was past midnight when Ginny finally left and Hermione hopped into bed, all bad thoughts of Draco pushed from her mind. She kind of saw what he meant, but she still felt a little annoyed with his behaviour in the Great Hall. She knew that on Monday she'd have plenty of questions from students, if not tomorrow if they stopped her in the corridor. She then remembered with excitement that the new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor was starting on Monday. She laughed to herself quietly as she imagined Draco getting jealous again if it was another guy like Jack. But what if it was a woman? Hermione frowned. She hadn't thought about that. Of course, she knew that Draco wouldn't cheat on her; she did trust him. But what if it was some stunning, skinny, smart witch and he left her for this woman? Her chest felt tight and she gripped the duvet nervously, trying to remind herself that she didn't even know if the new professor was going to be a woman. _Damnit, Hermione, you're getting jealous over someone you've never even laid eyes on, _she scolded herself and tried to get to sleep. However, dreams of Draco leaving her for another woman plagued her mind and at one point, she woke up close to tears. She sat up in bed and, for the first time since she received the gift, Hermione opened the journal she had got from Draco. She had never been much of a diary keeper, but at that moment, she needed someplace to empty her thoughts and feelings. It was becoming too overwhelming!

It occurred to her, as she was writing, that she was assuming that she and Draco would be together for a long time, possibly even marriage. The quiet scratching of the quill paused as she tried to remember what he had said earlier. Something about getting married in a few months and springing it on her friends? Shaking her head, Hermione dismissed the idea, blaming it on a hypothetical example. Of course, that's all it was, Draco was just giving an illustration to his point.

After mentally chiding herself, Hermione switched off her lamp, closed the journal and fell into a restless sleep.

**_Hi guys, thanks again for your support. PLEASEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE review - I get loads of story alerts but not a lot of reviews. Please click that little button below, it means a lot when you do :)_**


	12. Chapter 12

_**Disclaimer: I own nothing**_

_Chapter 12_

Two weeks after he had sent the letter, Draco still had not received a reply from his mother. His stomach was twisting with nerves that morning; not only was he anxious about the letter, but it was also the Quidditch match; the last thing he wanted was Aquila swooping towards him with a howler attached to her leg. His eyes searched the Great Hall in apprehension when the owls fluttered in, but he couldn't see his bird anywhere. Relief flooded through him, but a twinge of annoyance also nagged his mind – why _hadn't _she replied?

Draco smiled tentatively at Hermione as she sat down beside him. She still hadn't forgiven him for his bold gesture the other day in front of everyone, and their relationship had become a little frosty. However, he was adamant that he was right and he believed she was too stubborn to accept that. He would certainly _not_ apologise. In fact, he had rather enjoyed kissing her hand. On the other hand, Draco had definitely _not_ enjoyed the questions and the looks he had received during his classes, not to mention every time Minerva walked past him she gave him a wink. _A wink? __**Really**_? Of course, he didn't deny the fact that he and Hermione were a couple to his students, but he suspected that she still was, considering a lot of the pupils asked the question more than once. The hype of it had begun to die down, however, and it was with relief the day before, that when he had finished all his classes, no one had mentioned a word of his and Hermione's relationship.

"Who do you think will win today?" He asked the woman beside him, hoping she'd reply in a civil manner since all she'd been doing recently was staring at him disdainfully and answering with some sort of sarcasm.

"Gryffindor, since they are the better team," she replied bluntly, giving him a shadow of a smile. She was warming up to him again, albeit _slowly_. "You should see the moves we've got going."

"Is that so? I hope to prove you wrong, Granger – I reckon Slytherin will probably win the Cup this year considering you haven't got Potter to save your arses." Draco smirked.

"Oh, is that why you've won these past three years, _Malfoy_?" She asked innocently.

"Our team wasn't as good, if I'm honest. This is a good batch, this year." He insisted. "So, I'll ask again; who do you think will win, Granger?"

She slapped a hand on the table, knocking a glass of pumpkin juice over. "What's with the surnames?"

Draco waved his wand and the sticky juice disappeared. He then shrugged: "It adds to the banter, I must say."

"It makes us sound like we aren't friends." She grumbled. "Too much like our school days."

"We are friends," he replied quietly, "and more, if you'd care to remember."

She gave him a sideways glance and then looked away sheepishly. Fiddling with her serviette, she mumbled, "I'm sorry for being really moody, lately. It just took me by surprise and I wasn't ready for it – we'd only just made the deal to tell people."

"It's better to get it out quickly though, no use beating around the bush." He said fairly cheerfully. "Are you sure you aren't …"

"Aren't what?"

"Y'know,"

"No, I don't know," she said half amused and half exasperated.

"In your grouchy time of the month?" He said in a hushed whisper.

There was a pause and then Hermione burst out laughing. "Oh, Draco, that is one of the funniest things I have ever heard you say! Are you joking?"

He shrugged and smiled crookedly. "Not really, I was honestly curious. You looked ready to tear a Blast-Ended Skrewt apart."

She gave a shudder, "Ugh, don't remind me of those creatures! But no, Draco, I am not in my _grouchy time of the month_ as you so aptly put it."

He seemed satisfied at that answer. "Are we back to normal then?"

"I guess we are," she smiled at him and wanted more than anything to kiss those perfect lips of his.

"Good, because you were getting really boring," he rolled his eyes and stuffed the remainder of his croissant in his mouth. "Does this also mean we're allowed to show public displays of affection?"

"Er," Hermione almost giggled at his behaviour. "Not around here – I still stand by it being unprofessional."

"We could talk to Minerva," he suggested, swallowing hard.

"Yeah, maybe, we'll see what she says about it."

"Though I still believe she thinks it's okay judging by her previous behaviour." He sent the headmistress a sidelong glance.

"Mm, we'll ask her later," Hermione mumbled distractedly. "How many do we have for the Yule Ball?"

Draco looked thrown for a moment from the change of subject. "All of fourth, fifth and sixth year and a few of seventh. Not many people going from younger years; only about ten from third and none from the rest."

Hermione nodded appreciatively. "That's rather a lot. We'll need to write up a menu to tell the house-elves. Do you think …" she trailed off, slightly embarrassed.

"Think what?" he asked gently.

"Well, do you think Harry and Ron could come? And maybe Ginny?" Hermione bit her lip nervously.

Draco snorted. "No, that would ruin the evening."

She looked affronted. "No it wouldn't!"

"Yes it would." He bit back snidely. "Potter is the Boy-Who-Would-Not-Die and so all the attention would be on him – he wouldn't be left alone all evening and neither would his sidekick or his wife. Plus, I can't stand their company."

"Are you feeling a little jealous, Draco?" Hermione smirked. "And don't call Harry that – it's not his fault Voldemort was some psycho."

Draco rolled his eyes. "I'll only be jealous of people not noticing the fabulous decorations that we'll have put up. Yeah, I will agree that Voldemort was a nutcase but Potter could get off his high hippogriff."

"Harry? On his high hippogriff?" She laughed incredulously. "Draco, I think you seem to be forgetting your childhood of being so high on your hippogriff you couldn't even see the ground."

He narrowed his eyes. "He's arrogant and you know it."

Hermione sighed. "Draco," she began sternly. "Harry is the furthest thing from arrogant. Please can we not argue about this – it'll be fruitless and my head is beginning to hurt already."

"Fine," he said stiffly, but still glanced worriedly at her face. "Is your head really hurting?"

She gazed at his concerned features and felt a rush of affection towards the blond man beside her. Was this really Draco Malfoy, the boy who taunted and teased her at school, looking out for her, making sure she was okay and in a relationship with? It seemed hard to believe. "Not yet," she replied gently with a smile. "Fancy coming up to my quarters whilst I get some warm things before the match?"

His eyes brightened and he guzzled down the rest of his breakfast as Hermione got up from the table to leave. He waited until she was just outside the Great Hall to follow; he thought he would humour her insistence that they walk separately. Plus, all the questions from his students were getting rather tiresome – he saw no reason to fuel their rumours at that moment. He joined her once they were out of view from the rest of the school and, taking her hand, he almost ran up the seven flights of stairs to her rooms.

Once her portrait had swung open, Hermione latched her lips onto Draco's and they stumbled into her bedroom wrapped in a tricky embrace. She felt the bed knock against the back of her legs and she almost fell if it weren't for Draco's arms supporting her. He didn't seem to notice, however, and kept kissing her, moving his mouth down her neck to her collarbone where she shivered with pleasure. He began to remove their outer robes, throwing them onto the floor whilst he laid her gently down on the bed.

In a break of the extreme passion Hermione was beginning to experience, her mind awoke from its sluggish haze that had descended as soon as they entered her quarters. _Is this leading to sex?_ She suddenly thought, feeling slightly alarmed at the prospect. Though she would indeed like to make love to this rather gorgeous man on top of her, she felt that now was _not_ the right time. For her, it was much too soon in their relationship. Plus, they had a Quidditch match to get to!

Her thoughts were interrupted by Draco's hand snaking its way under her shirt and his fingers grazed the lacy material of her bra. _Okay, this is too fast right now_. With a reluctant look, she gently tugged his hand away and wriggled out from under his body. Getting up, she smoothed down her shirt and couldn't help but feel a little guilty at the reproachful gaze he sent her. "Did I do something wrong?"

She shook her head, "No, not at all; it was going rather well." She gave a little chuckle. "It's just a bit too fast for my liking."

"Oh, right." He said shortly, sitting on the bed looking sorry for himself. He picked up their robes and held hers out for her to take.

"Draco," she began, really hoping that he wasn't going to go into a sulk. "I really enjoyed what we just did, it's just I don't want to do _that_ now. Not when we have a Quidditch match to get to in five minutes and not in my bed on a random Saturday morning. I want it to be special, to be led up to."

His posture softened and he got up to embrace her gently. Kissing her on the head, he murmured, "You're right, it is the wrong timing. I'm sorry."

She smiled against his chest, inhaling the fresh and woody scent. "Shall we go down?"

He nodded and Hermione broke apart, grabbing her red woollen scarf that Neville had bought her and some black gloves, before leading the way out of her quarters.

When they were just emerging outside after a walk in a comfortable silence, Draco suddenly asked in a low voice, "Hermione, have you – have you slept with someone before?"

Hermione glanced at him oddly. "Yes, I have as a matter of fact."

He looked fairly surprised. "Oh, I – who with? If you don't mind me asking, of course." He added hurriedly.

"Ron," she sighed. "He was very sweet and romantic – we had a picnic on this deserted hill at sunset. It was beautiful. Then we went back to his flat which he'd shared with Harry before he married Ginny. Fortunately, Harry was out at the time!"

"Oh," Draco was silently impressed which he would never dare to admit. But he had honestly thought Ron to be the type of guy to clumsily force himself onto Hermione.

"Before you ask, I am not going to tell you whether it was good or bad," she laughed. "You have no right to know that information."

He rolled his eyes heavily. "_Fine_. Though I wasn't going to anyway."

Hermione continued to chuckle as they approached the stands. They were surrounded by a sea of black as the students jostled past them. The sixth year girl, Georgia, managed to catch Hermione's eye and she gave them an interesting look. She responded by giving her the glare McGonagall used to send Harry and Ron when they were misbehaving.

"What are you looking so thunderous about? Are you _sure_ you aren't on your period?" He asked, nudging her painfully in the ribs.

She gave an exasperated huff and stalked on ahead, weaving between pupils and ignoring Draco's amused laugh. She clambered the steps up to the professor's stand and wedged herself between Minerva and Aurora Sinistra so she didn't have to stand next Draco. However, he had managed to procure himself a seat directly behind her and proceeded to tug on different strands of her hair.

Hermione steadily ignored him as the match began, making sure to cheer extremely loudly when Gryffindor scored or when Slytherin missed a shot.

"You aren't promoting House unity very well, Hermione," a voice whispered huskily in her ear over the roaring of the crowd.

She turned around and sent him a withering look. "This is different – it's Quidditch and I'm Head of House."

He shrugged. "Promise you won't be a sore loser when we win?"

"Fine, but that won't happen. Promise _you_ won't?"

He flashed a smile. "When have I ever been a sore loser in _anything_?"

At this, Hermione cracked a grin and snorted. "Oh dear, I won't bother answering that …"

She switched her gaze back to the exciting game before her – at the moment it was pretty close, with Gryffindor just pulling ahead by ten points. She winced as a Slytherin Beater whacked a Bludger in the direction of Sam Briar who managed to swerve out of the way just in time, but wasn't able to escape the Chaser who collided with him with a nasty _crunch_. There was a cry of outrage from the Gryffindors which was quickly drowned by the excited yells of the Slytherins as their Seeker, Wesley Trott, lay low on his broom and zoomed towards the Slytherin hoops – the Snitch was hovering a few feet from it, the golden shell glinting in the weak November sun. Briar, who had lost a lot of height from his crash, tried helplessly to catch up with Trott but to no avail, even equipped with the latest Firebolt. There was an explosion of shouts from the students clad in green and silver as Trott's hand enclosed around the Snitch, and he held it in the air with a smug look upon his face.

"Well, didn't I say?" Draco held out his hand for Hermione to shake it. With a reluctant smile, she congratulated him.

"Good, but this doesn't mean you've won the cup!" She reminded him quickly. "Plus, that was a dirty trick you played."

"Ah!" He waggled his finger in her face. "You promised!"

"I'm not being a sore loser," she grumbled as they began to leave the stand. "I'm merely commenting on a cheeky bit of flying."

"It was tactics and good ones at that," Draco said approvingly. "After all, we are Slytherins."

She opened her mouth to retort but realised she'd be playing into his hands – it _would_ make her sound like a sore loser. He glanced at her smugly as they left with the throng of students and professors.

"Hermione!"

She turned to find Minerva waving at her over some students' heads. She paused and Draco stayed with her, waiting for the children to move past and for Minerva to join them. "Yes, Professor?"

The headmistress shot Draco a slightly disapproving look before speaking. "I suppose you can listen too. Anyway, I was curious about two things – how is the Yule Ball coming on and …" Minerva pursed her lips. "What is going on between you two?"

Hermione heaved a sigh, knowing that this conversation was inevitable, yet she did not expect it to be broached so soon even though she and Draco had thought about speaking to the headmistress. "The Yule Ball is going very well – we have a lot of people attending this year. We need to run through a menu with the house-elves and then get some decorations finalised."

Minerva looked pleased. "And, the other point?"

Draco glanced around and noticed that they were all alone standing in the middle of the Quidditch pitch. "Actually, Minerva, we were going to talk to you about this."

"Good, that makes things a whole lot less awkward."

"Hermione and I are together … like a couple." Draco blurted out before Hermione could skate around the details. "We know that this may compromise our positions as professors in the school, but we're hoping that we can come to some kind of agreement."

Minerva eyed them both shrewdly for a moment before responding with: "I'll speak to you another time about that. Thanks for letting me know officially – I'll see you this evening."

Sending a bemused but worried look at Draco, Hermione watched as Minerva left them both in a flourish of her cloak. "What do you think she meant by 'another time?'"

He shrugged and began to follow the headmistress's footsteps towards the castle. The cold air was beginning to bite at his uncovered ears and nose. "Uh, another time perhaps?"

"Very funny!" She jogged beside him to keep up with his long strides as well as keeping the warmth running through her body. "If she doesn't allow it, what will we do?"

"I'll leave," Draco said over his shoulder to her. They were almost back inside and he was picturing the crackling fire in his quarters, the cosy warmth spreading through his slowly numbing fingers and toes. He heard Hermione's stomping come to an abrupt halt and, rolling his eyes, he turned around to face her.

"You can't do that!" She said, completely outraged.

"I've worked here longer than you, you're more favoured, there are plenty of Potion Masters out there and my parents would be happier." He replied flatly, closing the subject by walking the last fifty yards to the castle. _Ahh, _he could just imagine lying on his sofa with a glass of Firewhiskey, closing his eyes and falling asleep. "Hermione, I'm going to pass on lunch and go back to my rooms for a bit. I'll see you later on."

Hermione had lagged further behind due to her stop and barely heard him as he disappeared down to the dungeons. "What was he on about," she muttered to herself darkly, charging towards the Great Hall for lunch. "More favoured my arse – doesn't he realise all the girls are besotted with him?"

She didn't say much to the professors beside her on the staff table. She wasn't in the mood to make much conversation – her mind was preoccupied with what Minerva would say to her and Draco about their relationship. After lunch, she busied herself in her quarters by marking some homework papers and then jotting down some rough ideas for the Yule Ball's menu. By the time she finished, it was almost dinner time so she decided to see Draco before they went for food.

Hermione took a breath as she knocked on his portrait door. She didn't know why she was nervous – he wasn't annoyed with her or anything … so why did she feel such trepidation? Before her thoughts could continue in a spiralling mess, the portrait opened and Draco stood there, tall and relaxed, looking thoroughly gorgeous. She froze for a minute before finally thrusting out her hand with the menu clutched tightly in her fist.

"Hello, Draco." he said for her, trying not to laugh at her awkward behaviour. "How lovely to see you – I've brought a piece of parchment with scribbles on which I thought you may be able to decipher." He sighed. "Sorry, Hermione, I can't read it."

Snapping out of her stunned frame of mind, Hermione huffed and barged past him, snatching the parchment back. "It's the _menu_ you idiot. I've written down some suggestions for the Yule Ball."

Draco stared down at the sofa which she had collapsed upon, her legs perched on top of the armrest. "Yes, you're welcome to come in, Hermione, make yourself at home."

"What's with your sarcasm today? You've gone into overdrive." She scowled up at him. "Anyway, I was thinking for starters, we could have some kind of soup-"

"Boring," he interrupted with a wave of his hand. "You want something interesting and different. We can have soup anytime of the year. A few years ago, my parents hosted one of their insufferable parties and there was this delicious starter." He paused, trying to remember what it was. "I think it was some kind of tartlet …"

"Red onion and brie? I've had that before and it was great," Hermione said, a quill poised in her hand ready to scribble out _soup_ and replace with _tartlets_.

Draco nodded. "Yeah, something like that. We could fiddle around a bit with different ideas – the elves would probably know best anyway."

"Right, main course." She moved on quickly, tapping the parchment where she had written down numerous foods. "Obviously, we'll have turkey, but if some people are vegetarians we need a substitute. And what about fish? Do you think people would like fish? Or beef? What about lamb!"

"Woah, chill." Draco backed away slightly, slightly wary of her wild expression. "Stick with turkey – it's easy and traditional. And have a nut-roast for those people who are weird enough to not like meat." He added with a look of disdain.

"And what if they're allergic to nuts?" Hermione challenged, choosing to ignore his snide comment about some people's lifestyles.

"Er, a tart?" he suggested feebly.

"We can't have two things with pastry!" She argued, frowning in thought. "I'll just ask the elves to rustle something up for them."

"Okay, and dessert?"

"Christmas pudding, duh!"

"What if you don't like mixed fruit?"

"Pick them out."

"That's ridiculous, Hermione, you can't do that." Draco laughed, shaking his head. "We should have Christmas pudding, treacle tart, chocolate fudge cake and sticky toffee pudding."

"Ugh, so much cakey, stodgy fattiness!" Hermione grimaced, reluctant to write it down. "How about we switch the treacle tart for a meringue pie or a trifle of some sort?"

"Fine, whatever, this is making me hungry – shall we head on up?"

* * *

><p>The next morning, Draco received a reply from his mother. He was afraid to open it at the breakfast table, so excusing himself quickly after swallowing the rest of his toast, he left the Great Hall and headed down to his quarters. Once seated at his writing desk, he finally opened the parchment and began to read.<p>

_Draco,_

_We are proud of your position at Hogwarts – how could you suggest otherwise? It just took a little time getting used to the idea, especially as your father wanted you to go to Durmstrang; we just didn't expect  
><em>_I apologise if you feel that we are organising your social life. Your father and I want what's best for you and perhaps – I am starting to realise this – we have made some bad decisions in the past which have reflected this poorly.  
><em>_I daresay that Granger is a remarkable young woman. I certainly heard enough complaints coming from your mouth during your time at Hogwarts: 'She's an insufferable know-it-all' and 'always has her head stuck in a book'. There's no denying her skill which was evident during the War. I am glad that you have befriended her, but I still encourage you to keep your distance as- _Draco snorted. That certainly hadn't happened. –_as it could lead to something messy if you get too close._

_Oh, my son, I know I haven't said it many times but I do love you, I really do. I know your father feels the same even though he has an odd way of showing it. _

_Yours,  
><em>_Mother_

Draco sighed, leant back in his chair and closed his eyes. He did _not_ expect that. A howler? An angry letter full of reprimands? A short message cutting him off from his family? _That_ was what he expected. He reread the letter twice more before his heart finally swelled with joy at his mother's words. He ignored her request of '_keep your distance as it could lead to something messy_' and knew that her letter was one massive apology, no matter how hard she tried to disguise it with words. How very Slytherin.

Almost bursting with happiness, Draco leapt up from his chair and went to find Hermione in the castle. He wanted to tell her the news, tell her that it was all going to be fine as he was _sure_ that his mother would find their relationship okay. He knew she was clutching at straws.

He guessed the Great Hall would be almost empty so he headed straight up to her rooms, knowing that she liked write letters to her friends and family on a Sunday morning. Approaching her portrait, he was surprised when it swung open before he even knocked. The wonderful woman he was looking for was already coming out of the hole and looked pleased to see him.

"I was just coming to find you. I was a little worried when you ran off at breakfast with your letter. I assumed it was from your mother?" She asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"Yes," he grinned. "She basically said sorry for making bad decisions, trying to get involved in my social life and for not saying 'I love you' enough. _And_ she said not to get too close to you as it could get messy." He laughed again at this. "I don't mind though, as I'm sure she'll accept it well when I send her the next letter stating that it's too late."

Hermione beamed and threw her arms around his waist, hugging him tightly. "Oh, Draco, that's brilliant news. But what about your father?"

"I don't know," he murmured into her hair, not sounding too fazed about him finding out. "I'm sure he'll come round eventually. I think mother will take time too, but she won't openly express it."

Hermione embraced him tighter. "I'm so happy right now."

"Me too," Draco lifted a hand to tilt her chin up towards him. He gently kissed her on the lips and just as he pulled away, Minerva announced her appearance with a light cough.

"Minerva!" Hermione jumped away from Draco and blushed furiously. "I'm sorry; it's unacceptable to do it here."

"You're right about that," the headmistress said stiffly. "However, I will allow you to be a couple as long as you refrain from displaying signs of affection outside of your quarters."

Draco grinned. "What if the corridor's empty?"

"You never know when someone could enter one, Draco."

"Hidden staircase?"

"No."

"Empty classroom?"

"No."

"Okay, behind a statue?"

"Mister Malfoy, I think I have made it quite clear to you that you must stay within your quarters before you – you frolic about!" Minerva's mouth was in a harsh line and she glared at Draco. "I am already allowing you to have a relationship – do not push it!"

Hermione jabbed Draco in the stomach once the headmistress left with a huff. He winced but laughed all the same.

"You can't say things like that to her, Draco! That was incredibly rude!" Hermione chastised, dragging him into her quarters.

"It was funny," Draco said, trying to stifle his laughter. "I can't help it – I'm in a good mood."

"I know," she said, smiling a little. "How about we continue from where we left off?"

**_Hey guys, I hope you like this! I really enjoyed writing for some reason. Please review or I might have to start making threats ... hahaha ;) Thanks to you guys who do and thanks again to GiantInflatableWalrus - a great beta!_**


	13. Chapter 13

**_Disclaimer: I own nothing!_**

_Chapter 13_

The next few weeks were busy for both Draco and Hermione. Aside from their normal duties as professors, they also had to deal with the ever closer Yule Ball and the problems that had arisen.

"The Weird Sisters can't make it, Draco," Hermione had said on the last evening of November.

He had scowled and thumped the sofa arm in frustration. "How about The Manticores?"

"I'll give them a go."

And it was with much persuasion that Hermione bagged the young band – she wasn't sure what their music was like but she trusted Draco's judgement that it would be suitable for the Yule Ball. Despite the hiccoughs in some of the arrangements, Hermione had received a very excited letter from Ginny saying she had felt the baby move for the first time. She was now just entering her second trimester and the bump was clearly visible. She had written back eagerly, so pleased for her and Harry. She inquired as to how her two best friends were doing, since Hermione had sent them a letter about two weeks ago telling them of her relationship with Draco. Neither of them had replied and, whilst Draco was being optimistic that they were busy and reminded her that his own mother took about two and a half weeks to reply, she knew they were furious about the news. Ginny had then replied with a slightly less cheerful letter explaining that they were still 'absorbing the information'.

"They'll get over it, Hermione," Draco said to her nonchalantly as they were strolling down the corridor together. It was ten days before the Yule Ball and they were finishing for the winter break in two just two days. Draco had changed his tune – it was now evident that Ron and Harry were not going to reply anytime soon.

"I don't think they will," she admitted heavily. "Why can't they be like your mother? _She _at least replied to your letter."

Draco shrugged and scowled at a second year who bumped into him. "Slow down in the corridors, Grisby. And Hermione, she replied out of courtesy; did you even see what she had written?"

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Hermione rolled her eyes. She put on the best aristocratic voice she could muster. "_'This will not go down well with your father, Draco – it will get very messy indeed.'_"

"My mother does _not_ sound like that. I'd appreciate it if you didn't take the piss out of my parents, thank you very much." He replied rather snippily.

"Oh?" She raised an eyebrow. "So you can take the piss out of me for – hm, how long was it – ah yes, seven years?"

"Six actually," he corrected quickly, stopping outside the Transfiguration classroom. "You weren't here in seventh year and if I recall correctly, I _did_ save your life."

"Saved my life?" She echoed incredulously. "And when was this? I seemed to have missed this saving of my life."

"At the manor," he shot back, a flash of irritation in his voice. "If you would care to remember, I didn't outright say it was you and your little friends when you turned up with Potty's face the size of Millicent's bottom."

Hermione snorted. "Okay, thanks for saving my life, Draco. It sure doesn't beat Harry going back for you in the Room of Requirement, or when Ron punched a death eater in the face-"

"This isn't a contest, Granger. Just be grateful." Draco glared down at her whilst she stared back slightly amused.

"How did we even get here?"

"Where?"

She poked him in the arm. "To this pointless conversation."

"You insulted my mother."

"Ah yes, now I remember," she grinned wickedly. "It always begins with the petty jibes towards mothers."

Draco raised an eyebrow and began to move away. "I'll see you later on – good luck breaking the unfortunate news to the seventh years."

Hermione narrowed her eyes and disappeared into her classroom. She hurried to her desk and whipped out the notes she had written for their final class before Christmas. As she was re-reading them, the classroom door opened with a _crash_ and the five students sauntered in with Xavier laughing loudly at a joke Callum had just told. It seemed to be at the expense of Victoria, however, as they kept sending her furtive glances which she replied with blood-chilling glares.

Hermione cleared her throat loudly as they took their places, tapping the board behind her with her wand. "N.E.W.T.s."

The students groaned loudly, Jimmy knocking his head against the desk. "Please not you as well, Professor!"

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked innocently whilst folding her arms trying to look severe.

"Don't set us work over Christmas, _please_?" Xavier whined.

She sighed unhappily – the plan she had in mind completely backfiring. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to. We have a lot of work to get through in this last year – if you don't all get Es or Os I will personally blame myself and I don't want you guys to suffer."

"Professor!" Victoria cried. "Surely if _some people_," she sent the boys a withering stare, "don't work then it's not your fault."

Hermione smiled at the Ravenclaw. "You are perfectly correct but I will still feel a slither of guilt."

The jovial mood that the boys were in when they entered the classroom was almost certainly gone after Hermione's announcement. She stole a glimpse at Daisy – ever since that incident with Jack Weaver the young woman had been incredibly quiet, not talking to anyone in the class and only speaking to Hermione if she asked her a question. She made a mental note to see if everything was okay.

Hermione continued the double period explaining the work they had to do over Christmas and when the bell finally rang, she knew there was some resentment towards her emanating from the students. _I'll make it up to them_, she thought with a wry smile. She was about to pack up her things for the end of the day when she remembered she wanted to talk with Daisy.

"Miss Woodward!" She called out to the dark haired witch. She turned with surprise at being addressed and shuffled back into the room, looking quite nervous and apprehensive.

"Yes, Professor?"

Hermione sat on the side of her desk and gestured for Daisy to sit down. She declined. "Daisy, I know things have been difficult for you, what with that business in September, but are you okay?"

Daisy nodded her head vigorously. "I'm fine, Professor, really."

"Are you going to the Yule Ball?"

A pause. "No."

Pretending to look surprised, Hermione nodded. "Okay, are you going back home then?"

"Yes," Daisy shifted in her seat. "I-I think my parents are still really angry."

"With you?" Hermione asked sharply.

The woman shrugged. "I think so … well, a bit of both."

"I'm not going to pretend that what you did was okay, Daisy, but I think this time will be important to talk things through properly with them, rather than via letter."

"I know," she nodded meekly. "Can I go now?"

"Of course, thank you for talking. If there's anything else, you know where I am." Hermione said gently with a smile as the girl left. Grabbing her bag, she wearily made her way back to her quarters where, with relief and nervousness, she saw Sirius perched on her windowsill. Opening the window, the owl flew in and Hermione untied the thick letter attached to its leg. She swallowed before unfolding the parchment and after scanning the contents several times, Hermione felt a mixture of emotions.

It began with Harry apologising about taking so long to reply, blaming it on the fact that he and Ron were busy at work and they both needed time to think. Hermione scoffed slightly at this – even if they completely and utterly refused to accept her and Draco, it wouldn't change anything. She read on and gathered that Ron was not happy about this arrangement – evidently, he was still holding grudges against Malfoy. Harry, on the other hand, was slightly more forgiving and accepting but Hermione still felt a sense of aloofness from the letter.

She sighed and threw the parchment on the table, mentally giving up with her two friends. She'd done all she could and now it was up to them as to whether they'd actually trust her judgement.

* * *

><p>Fortunately, there was a Hogsmeade weekend the day after Hogwarts finished for the winter break. Hermione had realised with a jolt of horror that she had no smart robes, other than the colour black, to wear for the Yule Ball. Slightly restricted as a Professor, she was a little disappointed that she couldn't wear a dress but she planned on getting some nice, pale blue robes – after all, the colour scheme for the ball was silver and white. She and Draco had had a meeting with the Head Girl and Boy and Prefects to designate jobs for setting up the decorations. She was pleased to see that they all looked excited at the prospect of the ball.<p>

Feeling like some alone time, Hermione ventured to Hogsmeade on the cold December morning by herself. She was wrapped snugly in her red scarf, a hat pulled down firmly over her ears and her hands shoved into the deep pockets of a coat. Her footsteps crunched noisily on the frozen ground and she puffed some breath out in front of her, amused to see the white mist vanish as soon as it appeared. She heard some pounding steps and two boys ran past her, one of them pushing the other with his elbow.

"Careful, you two; this is slippery ground!" She called out exasperatedly as they disappeared around a corner without a backward glance. The next thing she knew, a loud cry filled her ears and she jogged ahead – being careful to avoid any icy patches, of course – to find one of the boys on the floor, his trouser leg ripped around the knee and a graze oozing blood which had already started to drip onto the frozen ground. "I did tell you," Hermione said not unkindly, crouching and fetching her wand from inside her pocket.

"Sorry," the boy muttered sullenly. "He pushed me."

"No I didn't!" The other cried out indignantly. "He slipped!"

"You did! I was be- _ow_!" The fallen boy winced as Hermione sealed the wound and vanished the blood. She muttered something and the ripped trousers began to knit themselves back together.

"There you go," Hermione stood up, helping the boy to his feet. "Now, run along – or rather don't. Just walk the rest of the way to Hogsmeade, okay?"

The two boys grinned sheepishly and went ahead at a rather fast pace. Hermione rolled her eyes, stowed away her wand and followed them down the path to the wizarding village.

On arriving, she went straight into Gladrags Wizardwear and tried to find the most normal robes she could without them sporting lurid patterns and garish accessories. She had never been into this shop before and hoped it had something sensible for her to wear on the 21st. To her delight, she found a sale rail and right at the back was a powder blue robe. The shop assistant, who she had not noticed when she entered, suddenly jumped her with questions.

"Would you like to buy this? What pattern would you like to add onto it? Any specific colours? Do you need it to be measured?" The small, dumpy woman reminded her strongly of Professor Trelawney in her attire – she had several shawls wrapped around her shoulders and a floor length robe with a horrible and ancient zigzag pattern clashing with everything she stood next to.

"Er, no, I'd like to buy it like this, thanks." Hermione said warily.

The woman looked shocked. "But don't you want to customise it to your own taste? That's rather boring on its own." She pulled at the garment with a little distaste.

"No," Hermione said firmly. "I'd like to buy it like this."

The shop assistant widened her eyes a little and then scurried to the till where she asked for three galleons and a sickle. Hermione quickly handed the money over, eager to get out of the shop. She wasn't sure if she'd ever go in there again.

Back out in the cold air, Hermione looked up and down the busy Hogsmeade street and almost went into the Three Broomsticks for a Butterbeer before remembering that this would be her last chance to do Christmas shopping. Sighing, Hermione wandered through several different shops hating every minute – if there was one thing she loathed, it was finding presents for people. It wasn't that she disliked giving; on the contrary, she loved that part. It was the shopping and the looking which dampened her spirits. What do you get someone who has pretty much everything they need and want?

After two and a half hours of traipsing around the Hogsmeade shops more than once, though not entering Gladrags Wizardwear again, Hermione collapsed into a seat in the Three Broomsticks with several large bags surrounding her. She had managed to procure presents for Harry and Ginny, Ron and his family and her parents. She also, with much satisfaction, found a beautiful watch for Draco – it was sleek, black and elegant. If he didn't like it, she'd probably keep it for herself even if it was a man's watch. So it was with relief and happiness that she sipped at the warm drink, closing her eyes and listening to the pleasant chatter and laughter of the other occupants in the inn.

"Well hello, fancy seeing you here! Didn't think you were the drinking type!"

Hermione's eyes shot open to see a cheerful looking man in his mid-fifties, square-rimmed spectacles perched on his rather large nose and wavy silver hair swept back. _Ahh yes, Professor Frederick Tibble_, Hermione reminded herself. He was the new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor – he'd been in his post for about a month and he was already very well liked amongst the students and fellow professors.

"Freddie!" Hermione stood and shook his outstretched hand, gesturing to the seat opposite her. "Sit here; would you like a drink?"

"Thanks, Hermione, but I'm just about to head up to the castle." He bounced on the balls of his feet excitedly. "Been Christmas shopping, I see."

Hermione rolled her eyes, "One of those things you just have to do or suffer losing all your friends."

Freddie laughed – he had one of those booming laughs which made you want to join in. He was just an all-round jovial chap. "Yes, yes, well I must be off – Draco's looking rather impatient to be going."

"Draco?" Hermione repeated in astonishment. She leant around Tibble to see Draco glancing in their direction, wariness crossing his features. How long had they been in here? Did she walk past them without noticing him?

"Yes, Draco," Tibble said slowly. "Your colleague and – ahh, if I may say – romantic acquaintance."

Hermione looked back up at the man. "Has Minerva told everybody, then? She wasted no time in doing that …" she added in a low mutter.

"I guess she has," Tibble said sympathetically. "Anyway, we're going to go now – you're welcome to come along if you'd like."

"No thanks, I'd like to recover a little more first," she grinned, waving her hand in a farewell as the professor left her table. Her eyes followed the two men leaving the inn and she couldn't help but feel slightly hurt – why hadn't Draco come over to say hello? Fair enough, she did tell him this morning that she wanted time alone, but just a small greeting would be nice. Groaning, Hermione downed the rest of her Butterbeer. Who was she kidding? _No wonder guys get upset about girls giving them mixed messages_, she thought miserably, realising that Draco was doing exactly what she told him to do. He really was a decent man.

Hermione waited for a few more moments before gathering her bags and leaving the inn to go back to Hogwarts. It was nearing five o'clock and already very dark outside, as well as much colder than earlier on. She kept a steady, fast pace all the way back up to the castle and once inside its thick walls, she felt the heat wash over her and it felt truly wonderful. Professor Grubbly-Plank, who was currently replacing Hagrid for the year, had decorated the castle and the Great Hall with its usual twelve trees with masses of holly and everlasting icicles. The effect of this on the mood in the school – plus the fact it was now officially the Christmas holidays – was instantaneous; everyone she met seemed to have some kind of happiness emanating from them. It made Hermione excited for Christmas more than ever before.

She hurriedly went back to her quarters to dump her shopping bags, making a mental note to wrap them later on, and then went to find Draco. Almost bursting with excitement, Hermione practically ran down to the dungeons where she knocked repeatedly on the portrait, calling his name at the same time.

"Merlin's beard, Hermione, someone would think Harry Potter's dead." Draco grumbled, opening the portrait so she could come in. He expected her to walk in like any normal person; instead, she literally jumped into his arms so he had no choice but to catch her or else they'd both fall on the floor.

"Oh, Draco, I'm so pleased to see you," she murmured into his hair, squeezing him tightly.

"What's brought this on? I saw you earlier." He replied, slightly bewildered by her behaviour.

She laughed. "Nothing, I just really wanted to see you!"

He placed her gently on her feet as his arms were beginning to ache. She still maintained the close contact, however, and stared up into his grey eyes before joining their lips together. Draco responded enthusiastically, opening his mouth wider to deepen the kiss. Hermione moaned happily and sunk further into his arms, before he dragged them towards the sofa where Hermione ended up straddling him. Her fingers knotted themselves in his hair and his own hands were light across her shoulders and back, caressing the curves of her body before entwining them tightly around her waist. She felt this burning desire within her, this need, this want to _love_ the man in front of her. Opening her eyes, Hermione saw Draco watching her and they broke apart, breathing deeply. A piece of hair fell in her face and he brushed it away gently, his fingers grazing the flushed skin.

"Draco-"

He cut her off with a small kiss to her plump lips and she wanted to melt back into his embrace once again, but she knew she needed to say how she was feeling.

"Listen," she murmured, placing her hands on his cheeks. "I – I really like you, like, really _really_."

Draco watched her, his face betraying nothing of what was going on inside his head. His hands continued to rub incoherent shapes on her back so she guessed it was a good sign that he hadn't suddenly stopped.

"I'm not sure how to say it," she whispered. A part of her really wanted to tell him this emotion that was welling up inside of her but then … what if it scared him off? After all, they'd only been together, what, three or four months?

"Just say it," he coaxed, stroking her arm gently.

She closed her eyes and took the Hungarian Horntail by the flipping horn. "I know you won't feel like this right now as its most likely too soon and I'll probably freak you out -"

"-But?"

"I think … _think_ I love you." She finally admitted, hanging her head so he wouldn't have to see the blush that stained her cheeks, or the hurt that was there even before he'd opened his mouth to reply as she was certain she knew what he would say.

"Oh," his body tensed a little at the confession.

"Please don't say anything," Hermione said, trying not to let her voice waver or sound too shrill. "I don't want to ruin this moment … or what's left of it, anyway."

"The moment's not ruined," he said scornfully. "Don't be silly."

His abruptness stung a little but she brushed it off and decided to remove herself from his lap. And maybe from his quarters, too. It was time for supper anyway. "I'll go now – see you at dinner."

"Hermione," he began, grabbing her wrist before she could leave. She finally looked at him and saw that he was watching, concern clear in his eyes. "I think I _should_ say something."

She winced. "Go on then."

He took a breath and let go of her wrist. "You're right; I don't think I feel like that right now, _but_," he said quickly, noticing Hermione bite her lip, "I know I will in time. I can't say when, but I will, I know I will. And that's – that's all I can give you at the moment. I'm sorry."

"I know," she said with a watery smile. "I'm silly for being like this – I knew you'd say something along those lines. It's okay."

Draco stood up and enveloped her in a hug, kissing her hair and trying to convey as much as he did feel in this embrace. She hugged back with less enthusiasm than she did earlier, but he knew she wasn't angry at him and for that he felt relief.

They both began to head down to dinner together, talking about anything other than what just happened.

"Still haven't received a letter from your so-called best friends?" Draco suddenly asked as they entered the Great Hall together, steadfastly ignoring all the looks they were getting.

"I did actually, on Wednesday. Sorry, I forgot to say." Hermione sat up at the staff table, sending a quick wave to Tibble.

"Oh? Care to elaborate?" Draco asked when she didn't continue.

Sighing, Hermione explained. "He said he was sorry for taking so long – it was work and because he and Ron needed to think still. Then he said that Ron really wasn't happy but Harry's kind of so-so about it all."

"Wow, they honestly sound worse than my parents." Draco shook his head in disgust, tearing apart his sausage. "Saint Potter my arse."

"You called him that first of all."

Draco ignored that statement. "Just because he saved the bloody world, doesn't mean he can go and tell people how to run their lives."

"Draco, its Ron-"

"He wouldn't like it if you told him he and the Weaselette couldn't have babies 'cause she got possessed by Voldemort." He continued on, ranting and waving his knife about angrily.

"Its _Ron_ who is being difficult, Draco!" Hermione almost shouted, preparing to hex him if he didn't shut up soon.

"Oh, don't get me started on him." Draco snapped. "It just bugs me, Hermione, how they think they can tell you who you can or can't see! At least it's my parents who are driving me mad with that, not my best friends!"

"They're just looking out for me, Draco," Hermione said tiredly. "And I'm sure if my parents knew they'd be the same."

"What?" He looked genuinely shocked. "But they're Muggles!"

"Draco, you were a name-calling, arrogant, rude and obnoxious child who drove me to tears too many times. It would have been hard for my parents not to notice." She explained gently.

He stared agape at her.

"You're not like that at all _now_, Draco!" Hermione said quickly, resting a hand on his arm. "Maybe still a little arrogant, but that's to be expected."

He turned to retort but saw the little twinkle in her eye and he gave a reluctant laugh. "Fine."

She decided it was time for a change of subject. "Are you looking forward to the Yule Ball now?"

"What do you mean _now_?" He asked, affronted. "I was always looking forward to it!"

She rolled her eyes. "Okay, if you say so. I know I am, anyway. I bought my robes today!"

"Already got mine," he flashed a quick smile, "and you certainly looked like you bought more than robes."

"Christmas shopping," she said sneakily, wiggling her eyebrows. "It was very satisfying."

"I hope you didn't by anything for Potty and Weasel." Draco said snidely. They were already back to them.

"I suppose, being a Slytherin, you think it's an eye for an eye?" Hermione challenged with a smirk.

"Of course."

"Sorry to disappoint, but you're currently involved with a Gryffindor. I'm not letting one squabble ruin ten years of friendship."

He glared at her. "You are so sanctimonious it's unreal. Have you ever done anything corrupt in your life?"

"Yes!"

He waited for her to answer, quirking an eyebrow expectantly.

"Plenty of times …" she struggled to find something to say. "I made Polyjuice Potion in second year!"

"Oh, that's nothing." Draco waved his hand dismissively. "C'mon, something nasty, something a Slytherin would do."  
>Hermione drummed her fingers on the table like she sometimes did when she was thinking. "Well, after Ron and Lavender got together and I saw them, I sent a flock of birds at Ron to attack him. It was rather amusing."<p>

"You're getting there but that's quite mild." Draco gave a wistful smile. "There's barely any Slytherin in you at all."

"Gryffindor over Slytherin any day!" She crowed, earning a rather strange look from the headmistress.

"We should probably stop this sparring." Draco said in a hushed whisper. "I don't think its promoting House unity very well."

**_I know I've posted several boring chapters and I apologise, but the next chapter is the Yule Ball! At last! Haha, thanks for the reviews and alerts._**


	14. Chapter 14

**_Sorry this is slightly shorter than the others! Hope you enjoy it, anyway :) Review and tell me your thoughts!_**

**_Disclaimer: I own nothing._**

_Chapter 14_

The day of the Yule Ball began with a clear, sharp and frosty Thursday morning; if one looked out of the window, the bold blue sky could easily be mistaken for that of a beautiful summer's day. There wasn't a cloud in sight but, as Hermione found out when she wandered up to the owlery to send a letter to her parents, it was extremely chilly and the ground was rock solid under her feet. Her breaths formed large balls of mist in front of her face, and when she got back to her rooms, her nose and cheeks were flushed from the bitter cold. Breakfast had been a hurried affair, Hermione eating her food so quickly that onlookers may have thought she was trying to make herself sick. In fact, she was rather nervous about the day ahead and wanted to go back to her room to go over last minute plans. She had spent so long in the morning checking and re-checking the list she and Draco had made a couple of weeks beforehand that she had missed lunch. It was only when her stomach growled reproachfully that she called a house elf and had a sandwich.

Figuring that the Great Hall should be empty of the lunchtime stragglers, Hermione checked her watch and headed down to the cavernous room. She had arranged to meet Draco, the heads and the prefects at half-past two to begin decorating. Of course, it would be – or _should _be – done in a trice thanks to magic, but sometimes even simple things could go wrong …

She slipped inside the thankfully empty hall and drew her wand, concentrating hard on what she was about to do. She transfigured the four house tables into octagonal ones and then proceeded to duplicate those so there were about twelve in total, and placed them so they circled an area of the Great Hall. Here, she changed the large flagstones into a polished wooden dance floor. Just in front of the staff table, she made a stage where The Manticores would play later on that evening. The basics done, Hermione paused and surveyed her work with a happy smile.

"Nicely done," Draco hummed his approval from behind her. She whirled round with a grin and greeted him with a chaste kiss on the lips.

"Are the others here yet?" She asked, peeking over his shoulder just in case a student saw them in close proximity. As if they hadn't guessed already.

"On their way," he assured her, squeezing her hand gently. "I popped down to see the house elves on the way up here – they're very busy but very happy. Dippy, the one you like, was slaving away over the chocolate fudge cake; it smells delicious."

Hermione frowned. "Slaving? I don't want-"

"Figure of speech, exaggeration, whatever," Draco rolled his eyes and shook his head at her expression. "He's _fine_ and would you please remember that they _like_ doing this."

Hermione mumbled something incoherent under her breath but didn't pursue the subject. Soon, they were joined by the heads and prefects who looked alarmed at the sudden changes to the Great Hall.

"Right," Hermione said loudly, clapping her hands to get their attention. "Prefects, you will be setting up the tables," she gestured to a pile of boxes in the corner, "and in there you'll find all you'll need. Don't hesitate to ask if you need help."

The prefects all nodded seriously and went off to get started.

"You two," Hermione looked at the Head Boy and Girl. "You can help Professor Malfoy and me with the hall decorations. Okay?"

The seventh years drew out their wands in response and the four of them headed into the middle of the hall as if they were in some kind of battle.

"Change the walls to a lighter colour – perhaps a very, very pale blue." Draco suggested.

"Excuse me, sir, but could you be more specific? Sky blue, baby blue?" The Head Girl, Katie, asked.

"Er …" Draco trailed off. He had an eye for what looked good, but as far as shade names went he had no idea.

"Alice blue," Hermione responded firmly. "It's practically white – I think it'll be exactly what we need."

Thus began the decorating. They changed the walls to, as Hermione said, Alice blue and it went nicely with the grey flagstone floor. As they began to hang drapes and Hermione started some complicated wandwork of making some everlasting ice sculptures, the prefects had almost finished the tables. They had laid white linen over all twelve student tables - the staff table too - arranged the silver cutlery and a few of the girls had sorted some flowers for a centre piece on each. Overall, the whole room was rather simple but it looked elegant.

After three hours work, Hermione beamed at her helpers and awarded fifty points for their respective houses. She then sent them off to get ready for the ball which started in an hour and a half.

"It looks fabulous, don't you think?" Draco murmured as they gave the Great Hall one last look before locking the door behind them – they didn't want anyone to see it before they arrived there themselves.

"Yeah, I think this will be a great night!" Hermione enthused, slipping her hand into Draco's. They wandered the corridors up to her quarters where she sent him an odd look. "Don't you want to get ready?"

He shrugged, "I don't take long."

"That genuinely surprises me," she remarked, smothering a giggle.

"Why?" Draco seemed quite offended.

"You just seem the type of guy to take ages, just saying." She sent him a sly look before muttering the password and slipping into her quarters. "I'll see you later on!"

After she had shut the door with a snap, Hermione slipped out of her robes and went into the bathroom. Looking forward to a lovely soak in the bath, she turned on _all_ the taps – it was way better than the prefect's bathroom. Huge bubbles the size of footballs began to bounce around the tiled room and when the foam started to overflow the rim, Hermione stripped off the rest of her clothes and slipped into the warm water. She hummed loudly in pleasure and sunk under the water, savouring the feeling of relaxed limbs.

When her fingers and toes began to shrivel like prunes, Hermione reluctantly got out of the bath and dripped over to the mirror, wrapping a towel around her body as she went. Now came the laborious task of getting ready. As well as shopping for birthdays and Christmas, preparations for going out were another thing that Hermione hated. It didn't help that she wasn't particularly fond of going out anyway.

Ten minutes later, Hermione was running her fingers through her hair, disappointed and frustrated with the way it wasn't bending to her will. If only she had bought another bottle of Sleek-Easy! Although she was dressed in her new blue robes, smelling wonderful from the bath and her perfume and pretty much ready to head down, her hair would _not_ behave. She yanked out a knot and reached for her wand, scowling and muttering spells she tried to remember from Ginny. Eventually, her frizz was tamed and her curls framed her face nicely so, half satisfied, she left and headed down to the Great Hall fifteen minutes before it started to make sure everything was in order.

Minerva was there when she arrived, looking slightly different in robes a shade lighter than her usual dark green. Her hair was still tied in the severe bun, streaks of grey more prominent now Hermione cared to look, and her glasses perched on the end of her nose. However, she gave Hermione a warm smile when she stood beside her.

"You and Draco have done a wonderful job," she remarked, gazing around the transformed room.

She was about to reply when they were interrupted by a wheezing Filch. "That band is here, Professor."

"The Manticores?" Hermione asked feeling immensely relieved. She had been slightly worried that they would have forgotten and wouldn't turn up. "Brilliant, send them in, Argus, that would be great."

He nodded and held the door open for the five young men to enter. They were, strangely, wearing Muggle clothing of ripped jeans, tight shirts and loose biker boots. All were levitating some kind of equipment and after nodding to both Hermione and Minerva, they began to set up, flicking their wands to adjust the lighting and the sound around the stage.

"Interesting choice, Hermione," Minerva raised an eyebrow, "couldn't the Weird Sisters make it?"

"No," she replied, feeling somewhat offended. "I think they'll be good, though, they look it."

The headmistress merely gave a shrug and a non-committal sound. They waited for a few more moments in silence, Hermione surveying the band and the tables – just to make sure nothing was out of place – and then checked her watch impatiently. Ten-to-seven.

The rest of the professors started to arrive in drips and drabs, including Draco who sent her a cheeky wink as he went to sit up at the staff table, and with two minutes to go, Hermione opened the Great Hall doors. Students who were already there rushed in, _ooh _-ing and _ahh _-ing at the decorations. Her heart swelled happily at the reactions of everyone and she quietly made her way up to the staff table to join Draco.

"You're looking beautiful." He murmured in her ear, kissing it lightly when she sat down.

"Thanks," she blushed, looking around nervously. "Do you think the food will be okay? And the band? Minerva seems to have her doubts …"

He made a face. "It'll be fine – stop panicking. Besides, Minerva is_ old_."

Hermione snorted, her previous qualms lessening at his reassurance. "Sure … You're looking quite hot, actually."

"Don't sound so surprised." He grumbled but smiled all the same. Although he was wearing black, his robes seemed to give him this very dashing and elegant look. "Do I have the honour of having the first dance when it arises?"

"Er," Hermione glanced over to the band who was sauntering over to their table on the side. "I'm not sure if it'll be the right kind of music …"

"They'll play something slow, I'm sure." Draco took her hand and squeezed it. "Come on, please?"

"Fine, but I can't dance."

"Yes, you can."

"I can't!"

"Hermione, I danced with you at my Summer Ball. You were dancing pretty well then." He reminded her gently.

It had been a while since Hermione had actually thought about the ball at Draco's. So much had happened in the six months that they had first met each other again! "Oh yes," she replied quite dreamily. "I forgot about that."

"Welcome!" Minerva's voice was magnified and everyone fell silent. The students, all looking wonderful in their dress robes and ball gowns, were seated around tables watching the headmistress expectantly. "I will not keep you long. I would just like wish you a very pleasant evening along with the rest of your professors. Though, before we start, I ask that you give a round of applause to say thank you to Professor Granger and Professor Malfoy for putting this together." There was a roar as students clapped and cheered loudly for the two youngest professors at Hogwarts. "With that done, merry Christmas!"

There was a loud chatter as students turned to their plates and started to order their food from the menu – Hermione and Draco decided to stick with the same system they had at the last Yule Ball; speaking into the plate.

The conversation up on the staff table was cheerful and light-hearted with Minerva laughing quite outrageously at a joke Fred Tibble had just told. People began to place the colourful, pointed hats from crackers on each other's heads, exclaiming loudly at jumping frogs or miniature trampling dragons. The courses seemed to be enjoyed by everybody and soon The Manticores were up on stage, commanding the attention of the students. They began to drift onto the dance floor as a song which Hermione didn't recognise started to play.

"They aren't too bad," Draco commented when they just started their third song. "Not very heavy which is good."

Hermione nodded and glanced at him with a small smile. "If we weren't here, I'd definitely jump on you."

"Jump on me?" He repeated with interest.

"Yes," she winked, taking hold of his hand under the table.

"Well, why don't we go now?" He whispered huskily, leaning forward.

She sent a wary glance around the hall. "Not yet; we'll leave later on. Besides, you promised me a dance."

"You didn't actually say yes," he pointed out, grinning crookedly. "How about we go on now? Sprout and Tibble are waltzing away."

The song had changed to a slow number and it was hard to resist the temptation to go and dance with the person you loved. Even if … no, Hermione would not dwell on Draco's negative response to her confession. He just hadn't reached that place yet, that was all.

She nodded and they both joined the couples dancing, Hermione trying to keep a professional distance from Draco. She wanted more than anything to rest her head against his chest and for him to enclose his arms around her, but with the minor inconvenience of being surrounded by students and colleagues, she deemed itrather unsuitable. Instead, they opted for the safe, classic ballroom stance.

They received more than a few knowing glances from the professors and even a couple from some seventh years they both taught. It was theirs which sent Hermione into a flustering, embarrassed mess and she had to excuse herself to take a breather. Honestly! They should just get married or split up – then the looks would end!

"Are you okay?" Draco asked quietly, appearing by her side. They were in a shaded area of the Great Hall, fairly hidden from view.

She nodded hastily. "Yes, I'm just getting fed up with people looking at us like that all the time."

"Like what?"

"Like they know everything!" She exclaimed, throwing her arms in the air. "Whenever we're together, someone somewhere always has a stupid smirk on their face or winks at us or something."

"Ignore it, Hermione." He said soothingly, stroking her arm. "I thought you'd be used to it by now, being famous and all."

"This is different," she pouted.

"Of course," he rolled his eyes and pulled her into a hug. "Come on; don't let that ruin this evening."

"Sorry," she said, her voice muffled.

"You apologise too much. Now, do you want to sit down or dance again?"

"What are you two doing over here, eh?"

Draco and Hermione both turned like two naughty children to see Professor Tibble winking at them.

"I was trying to convince Hermione to dance." Draco sighed heavily but grinned.

"Oh, come on, Hermione!" Tibble boomed. "You've organised this event with Mister Malfoy here – you can't avoid it!"

"I know, I was planning to dance, I promise." She squeaked nervously as Fred was looking like he was about to give her a hearty slap on the back.

"Besides, the music is excellent! Who got these young chaps?" Tibble craned his head around to watch The Manticores on stage.

"Hermione," Draco said automatically.

"You suggested it," she insisted. "It was Draco's idea."

"You got them, though." He argued.

"But it was your idea!" She said incredulously. "If you hadn't said anything, we wouldn't have anyone!"

"You would have thought of them eventually," he replied sullenly.

Tibble looked back and forth between them, completely amused. "A joint effort then!" He barked out a laugh. "Honestly, you're like a married couple already!" With that, he left them, still chuckling away.

Draco glanced at Hermione who was looking very shocked. "Don't worry, Hermione, I'm not about to bend down on one knee."

"I know," she said shrilly. "Let's just go and dance."

* * *

><p>It was half past one by the time Hermione and Draco retired to his quarters. After shooing everyone back to their common rooms, they both had the task of returning the hall to its former state. Fortunately, being both quite adept at performing magic, the job was done in no time at all.<p>

"So, didn't you say you were going to do something?" Draco let go of Hermione's hand once they were inside his rooms and took off the rather stifling robe.

"Well, I can't say I remember …" She replied craftily.

"I _think_ you said you wanted to … _jump_ on me?" he feigned confusion. "Am I right?"

She winked. "Maybe, if you give me a massage. My shoulders are killing."

He raised his eyebrows slightly but didn't object. If this was how she wanted to play … He went into his bedroom and gestured for her to follow. "It will be more comfortable if you lie down."

Hermione smiled cheekily and took off her robes, leaving her in a skimpy vest top and knickers. Draco's eyebrows almost disappeared into his hairline. He hadn't seen this much of Hermione before and boy did her legs look good! "Was that all you were wearing under your robe?"

She shrugged. "It would get hot."

Not replying, Draco waited for Hermione to lie down on his emerald covers and pull down the straps on her top before conjuring a bottle of oil. "Would you like your shoulders done or your whole back?"

"Whole back, please," she murmured sleepily, already drifting into a lazy stupor.

"You'll have to take the rest of your top off," he said slowly. "And your bra."

"You can do it."

He paled slightly. It wasn't like he had never removed a woman's top before, it was just Hermione. She was being so … _forward_. It seemed unlike her. Steadying his hands, he slid the material down the rest of her back until it rested above the waistband of her underwear. Then he quickly unclasped the bra strap and tried not to imagine what was on the other side. He lathered some oil onto his hands and began to rub her shoulders in a circular motion. She moaned in pleasure and Draco suddenly felt rather flustered. He tried to concentrate on the pain which was beginning to form in his hips from the awkward sitting position. He didn't pause in his massaging as he kicked off his shoes and clambered properly onto the bed, trying not to straddle Hermione but ended up doing so anyway.

"This is really nice, thank you, Draco." She said happily, not seeming to notice his new position.

"It's okay," he said in a strained voice. "Are you comfortable?"

"Very."

They lapsed into silence and he continued to work on her back, getting rid of the numerous knots she appeared to have. Without thinking, Draco ran his hands past her back, lightly over her bottom and down her long legs. She didn't say anything so he carried on, rubbing and massaging her thighs and calves. When he reached her feet, she began to laugh as his touch tickled the soles. She tried to kick his hands away as he deliberately began to tickle her with a grin, but he persisted until she screamed, "_Stop!"_ between gasping breaths.

"Okay, I promise," Draco left her feet alone and his hands found their way back up her body and onto her back again. His legs were beginning to get tired from straining to not sit on top of her, not to mention his hands which were starting to ache. Running his palms softly down the spine of her smooth back, he bent forward and began to place feathery kisses along the tops of her shoulders. She suddenly rolled over, almost hitting Draco in the face and granting him a view of her chest, bra thrown aside.

"You're so beautiful," he breathed, drinking in her figure.

A blush stained her cheeks and she didn't reply.

"Can you jump on me, now?" Draco asked, meeting her lips with his own and resting on top of her gently.

She giggled at this, "I was just about to suggest that, actually."

* * *

><p>At five o'clock in the morning, Hermione awoke from a thud and sharp pain in her wrist. It took her a while to find her bearings in a dark and unfamiliar place, but she realised she had rolled over in bed and smacked her wrist against the bedside table. She wasn't used to sharing the bed with someone … <em>sharing the bed<em>? Hermione frowned and turned her head to the left to see Draco's peaceful, sleeping form next to hers. He was snoring lightly. Smiling, Hermione turned over fully to watch him, ignoring the dull throb in her wrist. It was hard to believe that this man, Draco Malfoy, was actually with her, had actually _slept _with her and had uttered those three words that she had so desperately wanted to hear recently. She thought she was going to explode with joy when, after their passionate love-making, he had mumbled, "_I love you_," before falling asleep. As sad as it sounded, Hermione wanted to write a letter to tell Ginny what had happened! She felt like a little girl after receiving her first peck on the cheek, rushing off to tell her best friend. It had been so perfect with him.

She continued to watch his eyelids flutter, his mouth twitch and his forehead, absent of the usual lines which appeared when he was awake, remain smooth . Hermione wasn't sure how long she was watching him for or even when she fell asleep again. All she saw was a light green glow from the lake streaming through a small window in the bedroom when she awoke from Draco's gentle stroking on her face. At first, she thought it was a spider or some kind of bug on her face and went to swat it away but met skin instead.

"Good morning," he said when she finally looked at him.

"Morning," she said, not being able to help the smile which wound up on her face.

"Sleep well?"

"Very well – did you?"

"Like a log. It was wonderful." He stretched and yawned.

"What's the time?"

"Quarter past nine."

Hermione looked thoughtful. It was Sunday morning and as far as Hermione was concerned, all she wanted to do was to laze around and not do anything. "Are we obligated as professors to get up?"

He laughed. "I think we should show our faces at least."

She groaned. "I can't be bothered to do that. I want to stay in bed all day – I'm really tired."

"Busy night?" He asked, smirking.

"Yes, it was. How was yours?"

"Oh, it could have been better …"

Hermione's mouth dropped in outrage and she sat up, grabbed her pillow and whacked him around the head. "You better be lying, ferret!"

He held his arms up to shield himself from the beating and laughed. "Why would I be lying?"

"The cheek!" Hermione screamed, trying to keep composure and not laugh. "Where's my wand?"

"Woah, don't you go chucking hexes my way." He warned, wrenching the pillow from her hands.

"Take back what you said!" Hermione spotted her tool on the floor by her discarded blue robe and lunged for it. However, Draco's strong arms wrapped themselves around her waist and yanked her back onto the bed causing her to squeal.

"Don't hex me and I'll tell you!"

"Don't lie and I won't hex you!" She countered, trying to wriggle free but to no avail.

"Fine." He pulled her into his body so they were sitting up against the headboard. "My night began quite slowly … I wasn't able to be with this woman properly because we were surrounded by unwelcome ears. But when we were alone late at night, I confessed how I truly felt."

Hermione grinned at him. "You're not lying?"

"I'm not lying," he said, smirking at her. "It was a wonderful, wonderful evening."

**_Please tell me you liked it! :D_**


	15. Chapter 15

**_Hi guys, I loved writing this chapter and I have no idea why. Anyway, enjoy!_**

**_Disclaimer: I own nothing_**

_Chapter 15_

The next couple of months passed in a blur for Hermione. It was a busy Christmas at Hogwarts due to everybody staying for the Yule Ball and so Christmas lunch was a very enjoyable affair. The four house tables were out but everyone seemed to be sitting in different places, not caring about house rivalries during this festive period. Minerva had commented with amusement that she had even seen a Slytherin join a group of Gryffindors at the Hufflepuff table. Draco was adamant that the Slytherin probably had some ulterior motive as to why they were associating themselves with the other pupils – he received a sharp slap on the arm from Hermione.

In the afternoon, she and Draco had taken a walk around the snowy grounds where she had given him his present – Draco loved the watch. In return, he had handed her a neatly wrapped box. She untied the typically green wrapping paper to reveal a beautiful smelling perfume and a delicate necklace. She had worn both every day since.

After the Christmas trees had been brought down, the decorations stowed away until the following year and the Christmas cheer beginning to ebb, for Hermione, everything started to become a regular routine of teaching, working, sleeping and seeing Draco. Gryffindor were currently in first place for the Quidditch Cup with Slytherin only ten points behind. Rivalry between the two Houses was getting feisty and one third year Gryffindor was sent to the hospital wing after a Slytherin gave him tentacles for hair.

Valentine's Day was fast approaching and Hermione hadn't even had time to think about it. Besides, she wasn't even sure if she agreed with the whole thing – deciding to show your love to someone on one day of the year? Shouldn't it be _every_ day? There were no Hogsmeade weekends coming up either so she wouldn't have time to pop out to get Draco something.

Hermione had finished teaching her last class of the day and had just entered her quarters, looking forward to the evening she was going to spend with Draco, when there was a tapping at her window. Sirius was gazing at her expectantly, waiting for her to let him in. She obliged but to her surprise the owl didn't bother coming in; he only stuck out his leg and flew off as soon as she had removed the letter. Unnerved, she hastily unfolded the parchment and her eyes widened as she scanned the contents. _Ginny's in labour! Oh my goodness! _Hermione threw down the letter and ran back out of her rooms towards the headmistresses' office. She _hoped_ Minerva would excuse her this evening to let her go to St Mungo's!

"_Fera Verto_!" Hermione almost screamed the password at the gargoyle which gave her a disapproving look as it moved to the side. She sped up the stairs and took a quick breath to try and compose herself before raising a fist to knock.

"Come in," the headmistress said before Hermione even tapped the oak door.

Confused, she opened the door slowly. "How did you-"

"You were making quite a racket coming up those stairs." She said not unkindly. "Is something the matter, Hermione?"

"No, no, nothing's wrong," she replied hurriedly, "only Ginny's gone into labour and I was wondering if I – I could go and see her?"

The headmistress sighed. "Unfortunately Hermione, I can't let you do that. I need you at the school and as you aren't related, I can't say it's a family emergency. I'm sorry."

She nodded dumbly. Hermione had an inkling that Minerva would have said that – it was worth a try, though, right? "I understand … but what about when she has the baby? Could I see her then?"

McGonagall shook her head sympathetically. "No. But as today is Thursday you're more than welcome to leave on Saturday if you wish."

"Okay, thank you." Hermione smiled tightly. At least that was some consolation.

"Hermione, I truly am sorry; I know this must be incredibly annoying." Minerva called out gently as she left. Hermione closed the door quietly and flounced down the stairs grumpily. _Ugh, why can't I go for just an hour or two?_ She thought wistfully. She stepped past the gargoyle and instead of going back to her rooms, she headed straight for the wall, which was really a door, and jogged down the stairs hidden behind. It took her down to the fourth floor where she then headed for the main staircase to take her to Draco's quarters.

She did understand why she couldn't go, she really did. It was just incredibly frustrating knowing that your best friend was about to have a baby and you couldn't be there. A few students passing in the corridors were sending her wary glances. Perhaps her distaste was showing quite clearly on her face; she tried to stop scowling as she arrived at Draco's portrait hole.

"Draco," she knocked impatiently, "it's me, Hermione."

There was no reply, but then she heard hurried footsteps and the portrait of Regis the Resourceful swung open. "Are you alright?"

Hermione kept her false smile on. "Yes, of course!"

He rolled his eyes and let her pass through. "You're an awful liar, Hermione, do you realise that?"

She sighed and let the façade drop. Yes, she knew she was a terrible fibber. She remembered the time back in sixth year when she, Ron and Harry had actually tailed Draco to Borgin and Burkes, where she then tried to convince Borgin that she was buying something for Malfoy. He was having none of it. "Ginny's gone into labour."

Draco looked confused as he relaxed into the sofa, pouring them both a glass of Firewhiskey. "Isn't that a good thing?" He paused and then said in a low mutter: "well, I wouldn't say its good bringing another Potter into the world, but I guess I can't have everything."

Hermione ignored the jibe and flopped down next to him looking thoroughly depressed. "Minerva won't let me go to St Mungo's."

"I should think not!" Draco said outraged, handing her the glass. She downed it straight away and handed it back to him to refill. "I'll be killed by Gryffindors trying to ambush the Head of Slytherin!"

She laughed half-heartedly. "Oh, Draco, I really want to be there with her."

Draco squirmed a little. He really wasn't great at the whole comforting thing. "Potter's there, Hermione, I'm sure she'll be okay."

"But she needs a _woman_." She whined.

"Won't her mother be there?" Draco suggested, hoping that the subject was going to close soon. He was feeling rather uncomfortable.

"Yeah, and I expect most of her family, too." Hermione pulled her face. "Definitely Ron. Maybe it's a good thing I didn't go after all." She added with a bitter laugh.

"Still not talking?" Draco asked, grateful for the slight change of conversation even if it was about Weasel.

She shook her head and groaned. "He's being ridiculous. It's been about two months now – at least Harry's fine with us."  
>"Last time I heard he didn't like it either," Draco said confused. "Have you had another letter?"<p>

"No, but Ginny said he'd come round." Hermione replied. "One down, one to go."

"Don't forget parents," he pointed out with a grim smile.

_Ahh_, she thought with a jolt. _I should tell my own._ The trouble was, how was she meant to tell her mum and dad that she was dating the boy who used to reduce her to tears at school? They would probably think she had been attacked by a spell of some sort and demand she leave the wizarding world. She took a sip from the now full glass of Firewhiskey. "Any luck with yours?"

"Mother told me that father's seriously thinking of writing me out of his will and disowning me as a child." He let out a laugh. "Of course, it's a load of codswallop. As I said before, they need me to _continue the Malfoy name_."

Hermione looked thoughtful. "Do you want children then?"

"I don't really have a choice, do I?" He glanced at her tiredly.

"Yeah," she began impatiently. "I get that, but if you didn't have all this crap with your parents, would you actually _choose_ to have kids?"

He pondered that thought for a moment or two before answering. "I think so, but only one."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Really? For me, after having no one to play with at home as a child, I'd want my own children to have siblings."

"How many would you want, then?"

"Two or three. Possibly four but that'd be stretching it a bit," she added with a laugh.

He gave a shudder. "Four children – that scares me to death."

"Draco!" She prodded him in the shoulder. "You're a _professor_. You teach kids every day. That's like having your own children in a way, especially since we all live here the majority of the time."

"That's different as I only have to see them for a couple of hours each day and they're not pooing, being sick and being smelly all the time." Draco retorted snootily.

"So it's _babies_ you don't like," she said, comprehension dawning on her face.

He shrugged. "I guess."  
>"You know," Hermione shifted on the sofa so she was facing him properly. "I would have thought you would want more than one child."<p>

"Why?"

"Same reason as me. Only child, parents working … it gets pretty lonely."

"I _enjoyed_ being an only child, Hermione." Draco frowned.

She laughed. "Ahh, of course. You're a Malfoy; you'd be spoiled as a child, am I right?"

"I wouldn't say _spoiled_." Draco said, irritated. "It was more … indulged."

"Same thing. Hang on," She said excitedly. "What if you had a girl?"

"So what if I had a girl?" He replied, not seeing where she was going.

"Well, you need to continue your lineage, right? You'd need a son to do that." She said, grinning nastily.

He rolled his eyes and groaned. "Hermione, not all Malfoy's are obsessed with their name. You have just had the misfortune of knowing my father who is incredibly old fashioned."

"But surely there's a part of you that would want to anyway?" She asked, slightly surprised. "I mean, think about it. You're the last Malfoy – your father has no brothers so if you had a daughter and stopped there, there would be no more Malfoys. Ever."

Draco froze. He hadn't actually thought about that. Although his father was a bit of a weirdo when it came to blood and child issues, Hermione did have a point. There would be no more Malfoys and he couldn't have that. "Okay, okay, I'd have more children until I have a son." He snapped, knowing she was right. "But if I had a son first, I wouldn't have any more."

"I bet you'd change your mind," Hermione said, grinning.

"I wouldn't."

"You would."

"No, I really wouldn't."

"You would when you see how wonderful babies are."

He paled. "Okay, _please_ can we change the subject? I am twenty-two years old. I don't want to be talking about this sort of stuff yet."

"Fair enough," Hermione sighed, leaning back into the sofa. "I can't wait to have children."

"Hermione …"

"They're so cute, though!" She shrank a little under his reproachful gaze. "Alright, alright, I'll change the subject. What do you want to do tonight?"

He sent her a cheeky wink. "Oh, I can think of _something_."

* * *

><p>When Hermione returned to her quarters later that evening after a lovely warm supper, she decided to write the much needed letter to her parents. She wasn't sure how to start and how well they would take it. Hopefully, it would be slightly better than Ron's reaction.<p>

She sat down at her writing desk and summoned the quill from her bag. Dipping it in ink, she bit her lip before starting on the crisp parchment.

_Dear Mum and Dad,_

_All is well at Hogwarts – everyone loved the Yule Ball which is a huge relief. I'm so glad it's over now. The Quidditch Cup final is coming up soon and my house is currently winning (only by ten points, though, so fingers crossed!). How are you both doing? Are you still going to France in April?_

_I have some news which I'm not sure how you'll both take. Do you remember me telling you about a boy who was at school with me called Draco Malfoy? He used to tease me, Harry and Ron a lot. Anyway, I haven't mentioned it in my previous letters, but, incidentally, he's working here at Hogwarts too. He's head of one of the other houses like me and we actually organised the Yule Ball together. You'd be blind to not notice the change in him. What I'm trying to say is, we've become very good friends and now we're dating. In fact, we've been dating since September/October time. I'm sorry I've taken so long to tell you this but I just didn't know how! Please don't be mad or worried; I assure you he's changed and a perfect gentleman. I've told Ron and Harry too. _

_Hope you're well and please write back,_

_Love from Hermione._

There. That ought to do. Placing down the quill, she surveyed her handiwork. She reread it a couple of times and tried to gauge what her parents' reaction would be. They probably wouldn't be too pleased, but hopefully they'd trust her to make the right decision. _Better than Ron_, she thought darkly to , she decided to send the letter in the morning; she was shattered and needed sleep.

* * *

><p>Reading the sign for the new maternity ward at St. Mungo's, Hermione weaved her way through the crowd of patients, mothers, children and Healers and eventually found the Receptionist.<p>

"Hi," Hermione said breathlessly. "Could you tell me where Ginny Potter is?"

The plump witch behind the desk gave her a shocked look. "Are you - are you _Hermione Granger_?"

"Yes," she replied rather impatiently.

"Oh, Merlin's beard! First I have Mister Harry Potter himself rushing in with his wife on my shift the other day, and now _you've_ arrived!" The woman, who Hermione noted was called Brenda, was staring at her with a glazed expression. A few people looked around in interest at her loud exclamation.

She winced. She was sure Ron had come in on that same day – perhaps he was overlooked yet again. Hermione decided it would be best not to mention it in front of him. "Er, okay, could you just tell me where she is? I would like to see the baby …"

"Oh, of course, of course." Brenda gushed happily. "It's down the corridor and the first room on the right hand side."

Hermione nodded her thanks, glad to be leaving the fawning witch behind, and heeded her directions. The day before, Hermione had received a letter from Harry in his very untidy scrawl stating that Ginny had given birth to a baby boy. They hadn't decided on a name yet and were very eager for Hermione to come and see them.

Upon arriving at the room, Hermione knocked quietly and entered. She was immediately swamped by bright colours, flowers and balloons and could just make out a bed with a glowing Ginny cradling a swaddled baby.

Harry was standing beside her looking tired, but the happiest she had ever seen him. "Hey," he greeted softly, flashing a grin.

Hermione manoeuvred herself around the obstacles in the room and gave Harry a big hug when she got to him. "Congratulations, you two. Was everything okay?"

"Only the minor inconvenience that he took twenty hours to come out," Ginny rolled her eyes but gazed fondly down at the tiny thing in her arms. "Would you like to hold him?"

Hermione nodded furiously, tears pricking at her eyes when Ginny passed the bundle into her arms. He was sleeping, his little red lips puckered and his cheeks rosy from the warmth. He had a large tuft of black hair that Hermione was sure would turn into a replica of his father's. "He's gorgeous," she murmured, sitting down on the chair that Harry had drawn up for her.

"You'll be godmother of course." Ginny said, reaching out to take Harry's hand. "We'll probably call you Aunty Hermione anyway, but you know … we want that for you."

She knew they were referring to the fact that had she married Ron, she would officially be an aunty to their children. However, it seemed she didn't mind too much and was incredibly flattered that they were even asking her to be a godparent.

"Thank you both so much." Hermione whispered, the tears now threatening to spill down her cheeks. "I'm so happy for you. Do you have any idea what you want to call him?"

Ginny glanced up at Harry before answering. "We think we're going to go with James."

"James," Hermione repeated softly, looking down at the little Potter.

"James Sirius." Harry said suddenly. "James Sirius Potter."

"I like it," Ginny kissed Harry's hand and lay back into the pillow. "Merlin, I'm shattered."

Hermione felt guilty. "Sorry, I should probably go now."

"No, no!" Ginny laughed incredulously. "Don't be so silly. Stay."

She lowered her gaze to James in her arms and felt this sudden need deep within her, this urge for motherhood. She unexpectedly felt jealousy towards Ginny at this moment in time; jealous that she was married, settled and had just given birth to a beautiful baby boy. The tears of joy that had begun to dry up were abruptly back again, but this time they were big fat tears of sadness.

"Hermione!" Ginny sat up quickly and went to get out of bed but was restrained by Harry, who knelt by his best friend in her stead.

"What's the matter?" he asked gently, resting a hand on her knee.

She shook her head. "Nothing, I'm being silly," Hermione replied thickly, trying to wipe her face on her shoulder but to no avail. Harry carefully took James from her arms and handed his son to Ginny.

"Something's upset you, Hermione, so I'm sure it's not _nothing_," he gathered her into a hug and she responded with a little sniffle.

"I'm okay, honestly. It's just me." She gave a reassuring, albeit watery, smile. "Where's everyone else?"

"Er, they came this morning and left before lunch." Ginny said quickly whilst Harry stood back up.

Her heart sank. "They all think I'm a bitch, don't they?" Now the mystery of the missing Weasley jumper at Christmas became solved.

"No," Harry said slowly. "Not really … it's only Ron."

"And mum," his wife interjected with a sad smile. "But don't worry, Hermione, they'll realise how stupid they're being."

She nodded automatically. A part of her had secretly hoped that she would run into Ron at the hospital so she could force him to talk to her. It looked like that wasn't happening anytime soon. Feeling that a change of subject was needed, she asked them both a question. "When do you go home?"

"Tomorrow morning," Ginny beamed. "I can't wait."

Hermione squeezed her arm. "That's great," she checked her watch and stroked James's forehead lightly. "I should probably head back now."

Ginny pouted. "Aw, can't you stay a little longer?"

She shook her head sadly. "Minerva's already let me leave the school this weekend. I shouldn't push it, really." She stood from the chair and kissed Ginny on the forehead. "Look after yourselves."

Harry embraced her tightly and she gave James one last fond look before leaving the little family to themselves. She couldn't shake the heavy feeling of need from her heart. Hermione wanted a baby, a family. Approaching the row of fireplaces, Hermione took a breath before flooing back to the school.

When she arrived back, she was extremely surprised to see Draco lying on her sofa reading a Muggle book. Upon hearing the roar of flames, he glanced at her, flashed a smirk, and then went back to reading.

"Excuse me? I don't remember giving you my password." Hermione said feeling quite grumpy. She wasn't in the mood for games; the sadness had turned into brooding. She stalked into her bedroom, threw her handbag on the chest, kicked off her shoes and curled into a ball on the duvet. There was shuffling from the living room and then suddenly the bed moved as Draco joined her, wrapping one arm around her waist as he lay behind her figure.

"What's the matter?" he asked softly, taking hold of one of her clenched fists.

"Nothing," she said sulkily, hating the way she'd probably have to repeat the conversation she had just had with Harry.

"Of course there's something," Draco replied having none of it. "Was the Weasel there?" he asked, venom laced in his words.

"No," she said hurriedly and she felt him relax against her body.

"So what happened?" he pressed, kissing the back of her neck gently. She shivered. "You saw the baby, right?"

She nodded. "James Sirius Potter. He's adorable."

Draco continued to caress her neck with kisses and continued over to her shoulder, moving her robe down her arm. "Then what's the problem?"

Sighing, Hermione took hold of one of his hands and pressed it to her lips. "It just made me think."

"Think about what?"

She hesitated. "Getting married, having a family. That sort of thing."

"Oh," he propped himself up on one elbow and pulled her over onto her back. Although a frown was marring her features, she really did look beautiful with her hair splayed over the pillows, gazing up at him with her big brown eyes. Not sure of what to say, he kissed her.

"I'm ready, Draco." She whispered, tears filling her eyes. "I want that right now."

A bubble of panic was beginning to rise inside him. Did that mean she wanted to get married to him? Merlin's beard! He hadn't even thought about that yet! Sure, he loved her, but did he really want to spend the rest of his life with Hermione? His heart screamed out the affirmative but his brain was a red, flashing alarm. She was watching him, regarding his expression to see how he was going to react. She tried to wriggle out from underneath him when he realised that he was taking too long to reply.

"Hermione," he said quickly, causing her to stop, "Hermione. I – I'm going to be honest here. I don't think I'm ready for that."

The tears that had filled her eyes now trickled down her cheeks and into her hair, coming thick and fast. "What do you mean, Draco?"

He hated seeing her cry, even more so when he knew that he was making her. But it was better to be truthful, right? He didn't want to lull her into a false sense of security. "I don't think I'm ready to settle, yet. I still want to do things before I have kids or a wife."

"Then what's this?" She asked bitterly, gesturing between them both.

"What do you mean?"

"This. _Us_, Draco." She glared at him angrily, pushing him away so she could sit up properly. "Am I just a passing fancy? Am I just someone who you can come back to when you've done all your 'things' that you want to do? What was the point?"

"What do you mean, _what was the point_?" he spat, getting off the bed.

"Of our relationship! If you don't want to get married, what was the point?"

"I said I wasn't ready to settle down, Hermione!" Draco exclaimed, his voice rising quickly. "It doesn't mean I never will!" He seemed to look at her as if he was seeing her for the first time. "I can't believe you're saying this."

"Are you just going to drop me when you get bored, then?" She asked coldly. He only stared at her, mouth agape. "The point of having a relationship is to get married! I don't want to be a casual woman on the side until you find the right person!"

"I'm. Not. Ready." Draco snarled, clenching his fists.

"You're just being selfish!" She cried, coming round to stand in front of him. "Why don't you think about someone else other than yourself for a change? Can't you see this is what I want?"

"_I'm_ being selfish?" He threw his arms into the air, exasperated. "Bloody hell, Hermione, how is this being selfish? I just said I wasn't bloody ready to get married and now you're going off on one about how I'm being _selfish_?"

Her dark eyes bore holes into him as she glared. "I'm not the one who wants to go off on their own and then expect everyone to wait around."

"I'm not the one who expects people to wait on them, hand and foot. I have my own needs and desires, Hermione." He countered angrily.

"Do you even love me?" She asked abruptly.

That threw him. "Sorry?"

"Do you love me?"

"Damn it, Hermione, why are you asking that?" He shook his head and started to leave the room. "Why do you doubt my love for you? Because I won't do what you want?"

"This isn't finished, Draco." She grabbed his arm and tried to pull him back but he shook her off. "Where are you going?"

"Never you mind," came the snide remark from the living room.

"Draco!" Hermione followed him out but all she saw was a glimpse of his blond hair, and then portrait swing back with a sharp _snap_.

**_How was that?_**


	16. Chapter 16

**_Disclaimer: I own nothing_**

**_Sorry for late update!_**

_Chapter 16_

Pink, red and white flowers glared at Draco from the Great Hall. There seemed to be bouquets everywhere, not to mention cute little white owls delivering Valentine's cards to students, showering them with confetti hearts as they did so. He scowled heavily as he took his seat at the staff table, steadfastly ignoring every single pitying and inquisitive gaze. It seemed to be common knowledge, amongst the professors anyway, that he and Hermione had had a fight and he was sick to the back teeth of them being wary around him. For goodness sake, he wasn't going to break down or punch them in the face (though he certainly felt that way)! As for Hermione, she kept trying to corner him or start a very awkward conversation between them. Yes, he knew he was being childish ignoring and avoiding her, but he felt he was allowed to when she was accusing him of the exact thing she was being. What was that saying? Ahh yes, the cauldron calling the kettle black. Yes, calling the kettle black indeed.

He grit his teeth angrily as he suddenly heard her approach him, very cautiously at least, and sit one seat away. This was not the time, the place nor the day. Valentine's Day, in his opinion, was the worst day of the year. He felt it was incredibly one sided; the pressure seemed to pile onto the man to try and please the object of his affection by showering them with gifts and terms of endearment. Thankfully, he had the notion that Hermione had felt the same way and hadn't actually bought her anything. If he had, he probably would have smashed it up by now. Draco did have the idea of taking her out, however, possibly down to the Three Broomsticks. Definitely _not_ that Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop. He almost gagged at the thought of frills and the stifling heat whilst couples glued themselves to each other's faces.

"Good morning," Hermione said quietly. He didn't look at her. That, he knew, was harsh. "I … er … I got …"

She didn't finish the sentence but Draco saw her rummage in her pocket and then push a tiny wrapped box over to him. He couldn't help but raise his eyebrows and turn his head _slightly_ in her direction. Here was the choice: take it or leave it? If he took it, it would be a sign to Hermione that he had forgiven her somewhat. That would be misleading. If he left it, she would probably interpret that to mean he was still majorly pissed with her and she needed to work harder. He chose the latter.

Excusing himself from the table and reluctantly leaving his half-eaten waffles, Draco left the Great Hall without a second glance. He _knew_ that would have hurt her. In fact, a horrible twisting and heaviness set upon his heart and mind and he almost turned back around. Despite all the anger, he now felt guilty for being so rude and offhand – after all, he did still love her even though she was being a complete cow.

He sighed and paused halfway down the steps to his rooms. Here was the second choice: carry on and pretend nothing had happened, or swallow his pride, finish this mess and sort things out. After much deliberation, groaning, running hands through hair and scowling, Draco decided to compromise. He'd do nothing until this evening and then he'd talk to Hermione.

So, with that in mind, Draco trawled through the day, half wanting and half dreading the approaching evening. His mood was lightened somewhat during the afternoon when he received three anonymous Valentine's cards. It was very amusing, for when he carelessly let slip that he had received the cards in several classes, a few girls blushed and giggled excessively. He narrowed it down to two second year girls and one third year. He was rather flattered if he was honest.

Draco finished the school day with a very nervous and light stomach. He wasn't looking forward to this confrontation – what Slytherin would? He mentally chastised himself as he headed straight towards Hermione's quarters. Why did he have to be worried? He wasn't the one in the wrong after all. Though, acting all childish and ignoring her didn't help the situation either. But he had every right to!  
>"Shut up!" He growled to himself, fed up with his busy mind. Jeez, if he knew how flipping complicated and exhausting relationships were, he probably would have locked himself in the Malfoy dungeon for the rest of his life.<p>

"Talking to yourself is the first sign of madness, not to mention hearing voices inside your head … in the Muggle world anyway." Hermione's voice came from behind him. "Where are you going?"

Draco turned and rolled his eyes. "Spanish Inquisition, are we? Can't a man take a walk around here?"

She scowled and folded her arms crossly. They were standing several feet apart in the middle of the corridor outside Hermione's rooms. "A likely story. You haven't been down here since four days ago."

"Have you been looking out for my dashing, handsome figure?" Draco raised an eyebrow seriously.

Hermione huffed but decided to come out with the truth. "Well, I won't deny it Draco, especially when you've been avoiding me!"

"Shall we continue this inside?" He suggested after hearing some footsteps and laughter over the rising crescendo of Hermione's voice.

She reluctantly agreed and they both entered her rooms, facing each other once more. "And what was breakfast about?"

"What about it?" He asked in a bored tone.

"You rejected my gift-"

"Peace offering," he corrected. "You just used Valentine's Day as an excuse."

She faltered slightly in her bitterness and her cheeks coloured. "It doesn't matter, you still rejected it."

"You're right, it doesn't matter," Draco agreed. "But what does matter is the other night."

"What about it?" She repeated his earlier words with a sneer.

"Don't play dumb with me," he warned, his temper beginning to rise. "You've wanted to talk about it all week and I haven't, I'll give you that, but I think we should now. Since we're both willing."

"Fine," Hermione snapped and then took a deep breath, thinking it wouldn't be good to lose her cool if she wanted this to go well. "Go on, Draco."

He sat down on her sofa. "What really got me riled the other night was the fact that you called me selfish," at this he noticed she looked down guiltily, "and I don't know where that came from. It was unreasonable, irrelevant and it hurt."

Her head lifted and he saw that her eyes looked apologetic as she spoke. "I know I shouldn't have called you selfish, but you didn't seem to understand-"

"No, Hermione," he cut in roughly, shaking his head. "_You_ didn't understand. I said I wasn't _ready_ and that I _will_ settle down, just not right now. You completely disregarded that and immediately thought I was using you, didn't love you and that I would drop you when the next woman would come along."

"I never said that!" She protested, her voice rising shrilly.

"I've put it in simple terms, Hermione, and that's how it came across to me." He explained gently. It was weird – his anger seemed to have disappeared and now all he felt was weariness. "I won't deny it upset me."

Hermione's bottom lip trembled. "I'm sorry, Draco, I'm so sorry. I'm such a bitch."

"No, you aren't," he stood up with a tight smile. "You're just a woman who wants to settle down sooner than her boyfriend. You just need to work on explaining that." He added with a grim laugh, approaching her hesitantly and enveloping her in a hug when she lurched forward. She began to shiver against his chest and then gave several hearty sniffs. Draco held onto her, finding that he was swelling with joy and relief inside. Thankfully that mess was over and done with.

"I love you," she mumbled against his chest.

The words rolled of his tongue before he even thought about them: "I love you, too."

"I'm sorry."

"Stop apologising, it's over."

"Sorry."

"Hermione," they broke apart and he cupped her face with his hands. "It's _fine_. Leave it alone now."

She nodded meekly and they embraced once more. "What's the time? We should head down for supper soon," she suggested after a while.

"Yeah, the students will be heading over now." Draco kissed her lightly on the head and they both left her quarters together, feeling slightly awkward but pleased that everything was okay.

* * *

><p>After the fiasco surrounding Valentine's Day, everything slowly returned to normal. Hermione didn't bring up the subject of marriage again with Draco, not wanting a repeat of last time. The professors were, surprisingly, pleased to see that they were no longer fighting, and as February blew into March, things couldn't have been going better for them both, apart from the fact that a certain Weasley <em>still<em> hadn't spoken to Hermione.

It was one blustery evening, after a long day's work of kicking the seventh years into revision, that Hermione complained to Draco while they were marking some papers together.

"Look, Hermione, if it's really bothering you that much – though I don't see why it should – just floo him for goodness sake." Draco pointed to his fireplace with an exasperated look.

She quailed under his stare and glanced down at her quill. "I don't know …"

"He can't ignore you forever," he said.

Hermione snorted. "Well, he's certainly started doing a good job of it now."

"Just do it," Draco said impatiently.

She reluctantly got up and went over to his fireplace where she took a deep breath, threw some powder into the fireplace and yelled her so-called best friend's name. Her head span as it travelled to its destination and she was soon looking upon Ron Weasley lying in a very compromising position with a buxom woman. They sprang apart when they heard the fireplace roar and Ron looked at her for the first time in … six months. _Six months_?

"Gloria, go into the kitchen," Ron ordered, his face turning into a thunderous expression. The witch warily obliged and left the red-head alone in the living room. "What are you doing, Hermione?"

"Trying to speak to you," she replied quietly, not shifting under the glare he sent her. "Why are you still not talking to me?"

He didn't answer but started to leave the room.

"Ronald Weasley, don't you _dare_ walk away from this!" Hermione screamed, losing control. The pent up anger inside her from this man exploded. "Stop avoiding this conversation – all of this has been caused because _you_ can't seem to get it into your _tiny _head that I'm with Draco Malfoy!"

His ears turned red and his blue eyes narrowed. "I don't get it, Hermione! I don't get why you'd associate yourself with that bloke after all he did to us! To Harry, to Ginny! Have you forgotten what his aunt did to you?"

"Of course I haven't bloody forgotten," she snapped, her knees beginning to ache. "But this isn't about them, it's about _him_."

"He's just as bad!"

"Ron, can't you see? Can't you see that I'm happy?" She asked him, slapping the stone floor in frustration. "I'm not dead, I haven't been cursed and my parents haven't been forced to go into bloody hiding! Are you _blind_?"

"Don't be so extreme," he scoffed.

"Well maybe you'd listen for once," she fired back angrily, "because I don't understand why you just can't let it go! I've been with him for half a year!"

"Maybe it's because you dropped me for _him_!" Ron suddenly spat bitterly. "Don't you _dare_ deny it, Hermione!"

She spluttered, too incensed to find words. How – how could he _think _like that … how could be _so_ self-centred? Did he honestly believe that she broke up with him after _one_ week, because of Draco?

"See," he shook his head disappointedly, "I knew it, Hermione."

"You're such a delusional prick, Ron." She said coolly, feeling nothing but anger towards him. Their friendship was buried deeply beneath the violent emotion that Hermione was now experiencing, if not already broken. "You've had six months to talk to me about that, six months where you've sat around doing bugger-all, sulking over why I'm with Draco. You're pathetic."

His fists were clenched as he started towards her, but stopped himself at the last second. Perhaps his small brain registered that she was actually in a fire. "Why won't you see that he's not good enough for you?"

"Not good enough?" she repeated with a hiss. "Who are you to tell me that?"

"I'm your best friend – I have to look out for you!" he protested, pointing at his chest.

She shook her head. "Yeah, you're my best friend," she said sarcastically. "That's why you've been supporting me in this, that's why you've accepted it so easily and that's why we're having this conversation. You're a great best friend."

He winced as her words shook him, and she knew that she had made a point. Finally. However, he quietly mumbled with his eyes averted: "You should go, Hermione."

"I want to sort this," she replied fiercely. "I want you to accept this."

"I won't."

As much as she hated to admit it in all her anger and resentment, those two words cut deep for Hermione. After their ten, eleven year friendship, this one thing was going to ruin it. Well, she was happy and she'd be damned if she broke up with Draco for Ron's happiness. This was _her_ life now. But still, it hurt, and tears began to form in her eyes as she gave him one last look before severing the connection.

She sat on the stone floor of her living room and cried loudly, not caring about Draco sitting in front of her looking incredibly worried. "He's – he's such a-an _idiot_," she sobbed, leaning into Draco as he came down beside her. "H-how could he s-s-say all of that to me?"

"He's not worth this, Hermione, he really isn't," Draco whispered softly into her ear, wanting to floo over to that stupid Weasel and hex him into oblivion. Maybe even _Crucio_ him – hexing seemed too lenient.

"But he's meant to be my b-best f-friend!" she hiccoughed in return, trying to stem the flow of tears with her fingers but failing miserably.

Draco sighed, stroking her arm. "Think of this as a test, Hermione. If he really cares for you, he'll get over himself and apologise. If he doesn't, well … you'll know."

Her bottom lip trembled but her tears seemed to dry up as she sniffed heartily a few more times. She glanced down and saw large wet patches on Draco's chest where she had bawled into his shirt. "Sorry," she mumbled thickly, wiping the stickiness from her cheeks. "I can't believe he has that effect on me."

He shrugged, not believing it either. Why should Weasel have that effect on anybody? He wasn't that special. "Do you want to go to bed?"

"What's the time?" she asked quietly.

"Almost ten," he said, standing up and pulling her to her feet.

She nodded and blinked a couple of times, suddenly feeling very weary. "Yeah, you can stay if you'd like."

Draco didn't answer but followed her into the bedroom and took off his clothes until he was in his underwear, and slipped under the duvet covers before Hermione had even taken off her own robe.

A ghost of a smile was on her lips as Hermione got undressed herself and joined him in bed. She turned off the lights with her wand and snuggled up to Draco who cocooned her in his arms. These were the moments she adored, and everything to do with Ron seemed to fade as she focused on the man who was with her in this moment, the man she loved. He was her best friend, her companion, her lover. Ron was just … Ron. She sighed heavily and felt Draco's lips press gently against her head. She smiled sleepily and closed her eyes, knowing that for at least a few hours, her problems could be forgotten in a deep slumber.

Hermione awoke abruptly, and the first thing she remembered was Ron. Then, she remembered it was Saturday and it was the Quidditch Cup final – Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw. If Gryffindor lost this by more than twenty points, then Slytherin would steal the cup. Hermione was determined that wouldn't happen, so, shoving all thoughts of Ron aside, she leapt out of bed, disturbing Draco as she did so, and ran into the bathroom for a shower. Even if she wasn't the most knowledgeable about Quidditch, at least she could show enthusiasm and support – it was the best she could do, anyway!

"Hermione," Draco groaned loudly from the bedroom but she turned on the shower and tuned him out with a nasty grin.

When she was finished, she spied Draco had gone back to sleep in her bed. Wrapping a dressing gown around her, she prowled around to the front before jumping on him, screaming as she did so. He awoke with a start and hid his face under the covers, attempting to bat her away with an arm. His eyes finally opened to see her grinning down at him mischievously and he frowned.

"This is _so_ unfair." He remarked dryly.

"First you disturb my sleep, then you jump on me and now you're looking over me in nothing but a dressing gown and smelling gorgeous." He smiled and lifted a hand to pull some straggles of wet hair behind her ear. "Beautiful is what you are."

She blushed and went to move away but he grabbed her arms to keep her there. His lips reached up and met hers and he pulled her down, deepening the kiss. Soon, her dressing gown was discarded and he was gazing upon her glorious form before they disappeared under the covers in a wonderful rhythmic dance. As it came to a close, she whispered those words which she felt she couldn't say enough to him.

They dressed silently but both had cheeky smiles upon their faces as if they had been caught doing something naughty. They were making their way down to breakfast when Draco announced that he was going to confront his parents that night.

"After you did it last night with Weasley, I thought it was a good idea if I had a little tête-à-tête with them."

"How do you think they'll be?" she asked quietly as they approached the staff table.

He gave a non-committal jerk of the head. "I dunno, but I don't really care anymore. I could be completely wrong though; they might take it wonderfully." He added with a roll of his eyes.

"They might," Hermione replied seriously. "You never know – people do unexpected things."

"Yeah," he trailed off absent-mindedly and helped himself to some food. "Do you think you'll win today, then?"

"In the Quidditch? Of course," she scoffed. "Why wouldn't Gryffindor win? They're brilliant."

"If you say so," Draco smirked.

"You better be cheering for Gryffindor," Hermione said, her eyes narrowing.

He gasped in mock outrage. "Me? Cheering for _Gryffindor_? That would be the ultimate betrayal to my house! How dare you suggest such a monstrosity?"

"But you're my _boyfriend_!" Hermione whined.

"That means squat when it comes to competitions," he said, still smirking. "If you lose this then Slytherin have a big chance of securing the House Cup."

"No chance," Hermione retorted confidently. "One, we aren't going to lose, and two, we have _way_ more house points than you."

"Have you checked it recently?"

"What do you mean?" she asked sharply.

"I mean that Tibble had to deduct twenty points each for three of your fourth year students as they didn't turn up for his lesson yesterday afternoon." He stated, his smile spreading widely across his face.

"What!" she shrieked. "Why didn't I hear about this?"

Draco shrugged. "I dunno, I guess he hadn't got round to telling you."

"Well, surely they had some kind of reason." She said, trying to reassure herself.

He shook his head. "Nope, they couldn't think of any excuse. He's also giving them detention."

"Bloody hell, those stupid kids." She grumbled, scowling darkly at her porridge.

"Not so brilliant are they?" Draco coughed, stretching and pursing his lips to stop himself from bursting into laughter at Hermione's expression.

"Be quiet," she snarled, gripping the table angrily.

Snorting, Draco returned to his breakfast and didn't speak to her until she finally exhaled and then gave an awkward laugh.

"Oh dear," she mumbled.

"What?"

"I'm getting into this too much aren't I?" She asked, shaking her head at her own behaviour.

"Just a little," he said with a chuckle. "Are you done?"

"Eating or being too competitive?"

"Both."

"I'm finished with both." She replied with a smile.

"Good, then let's head down." They both stood up and a couple of other professors joined them as they went down towards the Quidditch pitch. Arriving fairly early, the group of them settled together in the stands and waited for everyone else to fill the pitch. Anticipation was growing in Hermione's stomach and she found that she was actually nervous! For Quidditch! She clutched Draco's hand as the players entered; a mirage of red, gold and blue. Madam Hooch made sure they were all in position before she gave a sharp blast of the whistle. And they were off. She didn't tune in to the commentary that Jimmy was giving – she was just focused on Sam Briar finding that Snitch before the Ravenclaw Seeker stole it.

She was mildly aware of Draco cheering along with Slytherins whilst Gryffindor booed and hollered, but she wasn't conscious of the score – she prayed that Gryffindor were winning.

"Ravenclaw have taken the lead, Hermione," Draco whispered into her ear. Darn it!

Her eyes found Sam Briar again and he seemed to be chasing something – the snitch! Only … only he was _behind_ the Ravenclaw Seeker! How could this be? He was on the new _Firebolt_!

"No!" She screamed, standing up with the rest of the Gryffindors. "Come on, Sam!"

Her cries, however, were drowned out by the yells and cheers of the Ravenclaws and Slytherins – their Seeker had caught the Snitch. Gryffindor had lost the Quidditch Cup.

"No," she moaned again, sitting back down in defeat. She heard Flitwick squeaking happily behind her and then a consoling pat on the back with his small hand.

"Great match, Miss Granger!"

"Yeah," she mumbled, "well done." She gave the professor a smile before turning to Draco. He stared at her smugly. "Ugh, get it over with."

"Slytherin have won the Quidditch Cup, Hermione, how does that feel?" he asked very seriously. "Does it make you angry? Bitter? Disappointed? What do you think you could have changed?"

She rolled her eyes and punched him on the arm. "Alright, Rita Skeeter, calm down."

He laughed and pulled her to her feet. "Come on, I think a celebration is in order."

"A celebration?" she asked morosely. "What is there to celebrate?"

"That Slytherin won, of course!" Draco cried as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Merlin, Hermione, you're meant to be supportive in a relationship." He added, snickering slightly.

"Don't make me, please, don't." She begged, dragging her feet along the ground like a sullen child.

"If you have that attitude I'll make you come to the Slytherin common room where you'll be subjected to a lot of banter and I won't stop them. In fact, I'll give them permission."

"You are _so_ mean." Hermione pouted, but picked her pace up a little. "Fine, we'll celebrate but not with your house."

"Why not?" he challenged with a smirk as they reached the Entrance Hall.

"Because what you just said made me die a little inside. I'd rather argue with Ron again."

"Wow, do you really consider my house that bad?" He asked, clutching his heart as if he was in pain. "I'm hurt."

"You'll survive." She rolled her eyes. "Prick."

He laughed and grabbed her hand. "Come on, let's go to my rooms. I know a good way to celebrate."

**_Reviews are greatly appreciated :)_**


	17. Chapter 17

**_Disclaimer: I own nothing_**

**_I'm so sorry for taking so long! Both myself and my beta have been busy. Hope this has been worth the wait! _**

_Chapter 17_

The week following her argument with Ron and Gryffindor's loss was a tough one for Hermione. She had to deal with a consoling letter from Ginny which reduced her to tears once more, and the influx of seventh years knocking on her door for frantic help with some revision. Their exams were a little over two months away and the stress was beginning to show on their faces – no more casual comments thrown across class, no more sniggers from the boys and Victoria hadn't once grumbled about her classmates in the past two weeks. Hermione was beginning to feel rather lonely from the absence of chatter.

Draco had also flooed his parents like he said he would. In fact, he had actually flooed straight over to the manor, stepping out into the middle of tea party Narcissa had been hosting with a few friends.

* * *

><p>"Draco!" she cried, spilling her tea in a very unrefined manner. "What are you doing here?"<p>

"I would like to talk with you and father." He said, striding towards her and waving his wand so the mess disappeared.

His mother glanced at her companions, her blue eyes sparkling with worry. "Can't it wait?"

"No, I have a tight schedule today," he lied smoothly. He did, in fact, have a free afternoon. "Please."

Narcissa sighed and smiled apologetically at her friends. "I'll be back as soon as I can. Come, Draco."

She left the parlour swiftly, her figure moving soundlessly along the wooden floors of the hall outside. As he watched his mother, Draco realised how beautiful she was for her age – her blonde hair was immaculate as always, shining in the sunlight streaming through the large windows. Her gait was graceful, her light boned delicate body keeping in perfect posture as she led him into the study where his father was scowling over some papers. He looked up as they both entered, standing up in surprise.

"Draco, Narcissa – what's the matter?" his father started forward, reaching out a hand to grab his son by the shoulder. His grey eyes, Draco was surprised to see, were genuinely filled with worry, but he could not see a reason as to why he should think something was wrong.

"Nothing, darling, Draco would like to talk with us." Narcissa soothed him with a light hand to his forearm, bringing it away from Draco's shoulder. "Shall we sit?"

The little family made their way to some armchairs and made themselves comfortable before Draco addressed his parents.

"Father, Mother, I appreciate you letting me see you so suddenly." He began, nodding once at his father who repeated the gesture. "I wish to speak to you about something which I know you will not like."

His father scowled straight away. "It's about that Granger girl isn't it, the one you're seeing."

Damn Lucius and his Slytherin intuitiveness! He had a whole speech planned on how he'd bring it up! Draco mirrored his father's face. "Yes, it is, and I'm not seeing her."

Lucius' mouth broke into a large smile. "Thank _Merlin_ you've snapped out of th-"

"I'm her boyfriend." Draco shivered internally. He hated using that expression – it sounded so childish when telling your parents. He also hated Lucius' reaction to this piece of news.

His father's usually pale complexion turned a light pink and he stood up, shaking a fist angrily at his son. "Do you realise what this _means_, Draco? She will _tarnish _our name! She will-"

"-be a damn sight better than any other woman." Draco pushed himself to his feet and glared at Lucius. "I don't want to be having this purity conversation, father. Besides," he turned to his mother who was looking frantically between the two men. "I thought you told him, Mother."

"She did!" his father answered for her. "And that was about two months ago so I thought you'd have seen sense by now. Obviously not." He added in a dark mutter, pacing around the study. "Draco, after all I've –_ we've_ – taught you, _this_ is how you repay us?"

"I'm sorry, Father, but all you taught me went out the window as soon as I heard that the Dark Lord was a flipping half-blood, not to mention everything about Muggleborns being insignificant and lower than ourselves." Draco retorted somewhat calmly, watching his father as his mother clutched the armrest nervously. "The whole thing is ridiculous. I won't stand for it and neither will I let you dictate my life. I am happy with Hermione."

His father bristled but couldn't find any words to say apart from: "I'll write you out of the will! I'll disown you!"

"Lucius!" Narcissa cried out, horrified by what her husband was threatening.

"Do it, but it'll be your loss knowing that the Malfoy name will disappear when you and Mother die." Draco goaded his father, trying to keep a smirk off his face. He silently thanked Hermione for bringing that issue up in the conversation they had had that time.

"Better that than having half-blood descendants!" Lucius spat.

Draco got angry then. He clenched his fists and marched towards his father, trying his hardest not to draw his wand and send hexes at his own flesh and blood.

"Draco, Lucius, please!" his mother leapt out of her seat and rushed between them both, her voice cracking. "Stop fighting. This will get us nowhere – only draw us further away from the point."

He saw reason in what his mother said but fury was still coursing through him. He stepped back, almost reaching the end of his tether with this conversation. It was not going well.

"I don't see your logic, father." Draco said, fighting to keep his tone in check. "I'm afraid I thoroughly disagree with what you've just said and I find it highly insulting."

"I find it highly insulting that you're _with_ this girl!" Lucius hissed back.

Draco sighed. "When will you stop worrying about it, father? I'm happy for Merlin's sake! Don't you care about that?" He challenged the blond-haired man in front of him, stepping up to him once more.

"Lucius," Narcissa began hesitantly. "He's right, Lucius."

Her husband turned on her, eyes blazing like a dragon's fire. "Excuse me?"

"This is for Draco, not for the benefit of our name!" Her voice trembled only slightly. "Let him do as he pleases; I'll be damned if you disown our only child!"

Now with two against him, Lucius – the coward and Slytherin he was – swallowed and made an excuse to leave the study. "I'm expecting Mr Parkinson now. We'll continue this discussion another day, goodbye."

Draco hugged his strained mother tightly when his father had left. "Thank you, Mother. He might just come round, now."

Narcissa nodded against his shoulder and pulled away from her son. She raised a shaking hand to his cheek and said, "I trust you'll make the right decision with this, Draco. As long as you're happy, I'm happy. It's just taken me a while to see that."

Draco smiled sadly but kissed his mother's hand. "I must go – have a lovely afternoon."

* * *

><p>Since that day, Draco had received a letter from his father reluctantly accepting the news. He punched the air triumphantly – who would have thought that Lucius Malfoy would allow a relationship between his pureblood son and a Muggleborn girl?<p>

"I'm so glad that's over now," he said to Hermione, sighing happily as they relaxed on his bed. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders as she snuggled into his side, murmuring in agreement. A previous thought that he had only recently entertained popped into his mind. "I was thinking …"

"Yes?" she prompted when he didn't continue to speak.

He seemed to blush slightly and his arm became quite stiff. She prodded him in the ribs, causing him to wince and then open his mouth indignantly. "Hey! I was getting to it."

Hermione sighed impatiently and waited for him to carry on, her toes twitching nervously in her slippers.

"I was thinking," he finally began again after a long pause. "That after this school year has ended, would – would you like to move in? With me?"

She gasped inwardly. _Move in with Draco! How … brilliant!_ "Draco, I don't know what to say!"

"Yes?" he suggested weakly, wishing with his entire might that he hadn't started this conversation. For Merlin's sake, his father had only just permitted them to date, let alone move in with each other. He'd have a heart attack!

She almost blurted out the word but then stopped herself. She had just moved in to her own cottage and though she had only spent about two months actually living there, a deep sense of attachment had grown towards the whitewashed walls, weathered garden gate and its character within. She didn't want to just up and leave straight away! "I want to; I really do, but my house-"

"We can still keep it, if you like," he said quickly, wanting to put any obstacles out of the way, "as a second home of some sort."

"A second home half a mile down the road from our first?" Hermione asked amusedly. "Strange, I always thought a second home was in another country or something …"

"Hermione, I'm trying to make this as easy as possible for us." Draco reminded her quite sternly, earning a look of surprise and hurt.

"Woah, Draco, what's the matter?" Hermione sat up and stared at him shrewdly, still feeling stung by his response.

"Nothing," he answered back quickly, glancing at her apologetically. "I'm – I've just never done this sort of thing before and I don't know if I'm doing it right."

He seemed so pathetic and vulnerable at that moment in time; Hermione stroked his hair as she leant back into him, forgiving him for his unreasonable reaction. "You're doing a wonderful job," she giggled. "I'll try and make this easy for you, then."

"Thank you," he breathed, grabbing her hand and kissing her fingertips lightly.

She smiled. "It will be strange having two homes so close together but I really don't want to give up my cottage just yet."

"I get that," Draco mumbled untruthfully. In all seriousness, he didn't understand why Hermione couldn't just sell her home and move into his own. His was much bigger and nicer after all and besides, she hadn't lived there for very long. It just made more sense. Obviously, Draco didn't voice his opinions. "We could rent it out or something."

"No!" Hermione said outraged.

"So it'll just be sitting there gathering dust?" he questioned, raising an eyebrow. "Come on, Hermione, be realistic here. At least _do _something with it."

She glared sullenly at her fingers as she picked at her nails. She muttered something under breath and when Draco asked her to speak up, she responded with some cautiousness. "Well … why don't we move into my-"

Draco pushed her away and stood up from the bed. "No," he said flatly whilst she harrumphed grumpily.

"And why not?"

"Because."

"Because?"

"Because my house is better!" he retorted childishly, even going to the extent of folding his arms.

She laughed humourlessly. "That's so stupid, Draco. It would make more sense for a couple to move into a two bedroom cottage rather than a six bedroom house. Ask anyone sane and they'll tell you."

"Why can't we just go into mine?" he complained, grey eyes pleading with brown. "Honestly, this wasn't meant to start a giant discussion – a simple yes or no would have sufficed."

"Draco, asking me to move in with you _is_ a giant decision, you plonker." Hermione rolled her eyes exasperatedly. "It's good that we're talking about this."  
>He groaned, covered his face with his hands and muttered something that sounded like: "I wish I'd never asked that damn question."<p>

Hermione got up from the bed, hiding a smile, pulled his hands away and kissed him on the lips. "Let's leave it for now, then. We'll talk about this another time."

He felt his shoulders relax and exhaled a breath he didn't realise he had been holding. Yes, they'll talk about that another time. Perhaps never? He shuddered internally at the thought. He did want to move in with Hermione, he really did. _And what will happen after that? _A small voice in his head asked, _you get married? Have children?_ He suddenly felt very giddy and dragged Hermione back over to the bed, lying down. Marriage? Was he prepared to take that step? If he was going to ask her to move in, he may as well. Right?

"Are you okay?" she whispered in his ear, stroking his cheek gently.

He swallowed. "My head won't shut up." He didn't _dare_ tell her what was going on inside.

"I'll distract you," she murmured, planting light kisses upon his forehead and down his jaw and onto his taut lips. They relaxed under her touch and he eagerly responded, wrapping his arms around her slender body and pulling her on top of him. Hermione's fingers wound themselves in his hair as she rested on her forearms. She gazed intently into Draco's eyes, feeling lost in the depths but loving every second. Her heart seemed to burst and she kissed him again, but this time with more fervour, propping herself up a bit so she could run her hands down his chest and unbutton his shirt. He wriggled his arms free of the sleeves and then hauled off her own garments covering her upper half. Soon, they were both bare from the waist up, and Hermione couldn't wait to remove the rest, surprising herself a little at the idea.

They were soon lost in a tangle of limbs and Hermione and Draco melted into each other's arms, falling into a deep sleep after some beautiful love-making.

* * *

><p>It was just entering April when Hermione received her owl at breakfast on a blustery Tuesday morning. There was nothing unusual about this – she still subscribed to the <em>Daily Prophet<em> – but the extra thick parchment attached to the moving black and white paper _was_. She wondered who it was from as she ran through a list of names in her head. _Mum and Dad still haven't replied to my letter … Ron – no, that would be pushing it … Harry and Ginny! Oh my goodness, I hope the baby's okay!_ It was when she realised her godson could be in trouble that she ripped the paper from the parchment, tossing it to the side and upsetting Draco's coffee. He yelped as the hot liquid scalded him but his cries went ignored. She was in shock; in an untidy scrawl was her name. The scrawl she hadn't seen in about seven months or so. It _was_ Ron. Her heart in her throat, Hermione tore the letter open and scanned the words.

_Hermione,_

_I owe you an apology. Not just that, I owe you everything – I am so sorry. I'm so sorry for ignoring you, for not supporting you, for being a childish, ignorant, narrow-minded, selfish dick. Please forgive me?  
><em>_After you left that night, I sent that woman home and flooed Ginny and Harry. I told them what happened and they yelled at me - rightly so. Harry was fuming. Ginny actually stopped talking to me for about a week and then told me I had to get my act together. They were right, Hermione, and I was so wrong. I'm sorry it's taken me this long to apologise too, not just for the whole thing with you and Malfoy but with the way I treated you that evening. Wow, I'm a git, aren't I? I'm a bloody crap best friend.  
><em>_I would like to see you again in person. Maybe even with Malfoy too, if you want. I understand if you don't reply._

_Ron._

"_Well_," Draco said, finishing the letter before she had. "_Well_, would you look at that?" He sounded so unbelievably smug.

"I know," she murmured. She couldn't believe it either. Ron had actually sat down and written a letter apologising! She thought Ginny must have helped him with it – she _must_ have. It just didn't seem conceivable. "I'm going to write back later on. Do you fancy seeing him though?"

Draco's elated expression darkened for a moment. "After all that crap he put you through? Not likely."

"Draco," she began tiredly, "he's trying to make amends. It's the least we can do."

"I'll think about it." Was his short reply.

She dropped the subject and then turned back to her coffee stained newspaper. She couldn't concentrate on the moving pictures, though; her mind was just too preoccupied with Ron's letter. She would have missed it but the paper cut caused her to yelp and look down. There was another piece of parchment poking out from underneath the _Daily Prophet_. Opening it carefully whilst sucking her finger, Hermione was pleased to see her mother's writing. This day was just getting better and better! Aside from the paper cut of course.

She scanned the contents eagerly and found with pleasure that her parents had no qualms about her relationship as long as she was happy. They were confident that she would make the best decision for herself.

"Who's that?" Draco chewed grumpily on his sausage. "Another grovelling letter from a Weasley?"

"Hush your mouth," she said snappily. "It's my parents."

"Oh," he seemed indifferent and went back to his food.

"They're fine, thanks, not been doing much …" she growled sarcastically. Honestly, sometimes, that man had no manners. "They trust us being together."

He grunted in appreciation.

"Are you going to be like this all day now?"

He shrugged.

Hermione snorted, gathered her packages and got up from the table. "I'll see you around, oh love of my life."

At this, Draco let out a laugh he couldn't help keep in. "Okay then, woman of my fantasies."

She slapped him lightly around the head. "Shh!"

"You started it!" He held his hands up in defence and smiled as she gave him a wink and walked away. He really did like that girl.

Hermione hid away the letters in one of her drawers, wrote a hasty reply to Ron stating that they would both see him on the next Hogsmeade weekend and made a note to send it later. She then finished getting ready and headed down to her classroom just as the bell rang signalling the first lesson.

She waited patiently for the fifth years to enter and then launched straight into an interrogation to see if they were revising.

"I am, Pro-"

"Quidditch practice is taking up _so_ much time-"

"I lost my book all last-"

"I did five hours in the libr-"

Hermione held up her hands to staunch the cries of excuses. "Okay, one at a time. Billy, I highly doubt you dropped a whole month's worth of notes down the loo – you shouldn't be revising in the toilet, anyway." She added, grimacing at the thought. Of course, she did expect a whole load of excuses to come flying out of the fifth years mouths. They just didn't seem to realise that their O.W.L.s were actually quite important. _They'll realise that when August swings around_, Hermione reminded herself sadly. There was only so much a professor could do. "Since you all seem to be doing nothing," she had to raise her voice then as a few students protested noisily, "we'll have a revision lesson. Come to me if you need help with anything, and yes, I know you three _have_ been revising but you can never do enough."

There were a couple of resentful glances thrown in her direction but Hermione ignored them and settled behind her desk. She watched a girl sat at the back of the glass, her hand scribbling furiously over parchment as she made her notes, glancing rarely at the textbook beside her. Something about that girl reminded Hermione of her younger self and when the dirty-blonde raised her head to see whose eyes she felt upon her, she smiled warmly at her. One of the things Hermione had hated in her first couple of months at Hogwarts was that no one spoke to her. She was afraid that it was now too late for Fiona Shorthouse.

"Professor?"

She was distracted as a scrawny, freckly boy by the name of Edgar raised his hand. "Yes?"

"I just can't vanish things," he said pathetically, looking imploringly at her.

"Let me see you try," she replied gently and _Accio'ed _a jar of snails from her cupboard. She then placed the oozing invertebrate upon the desk where the boy pointed his wand and cried, "_Evanesco_!"

It was some consolation for Edgar that the shell disappeared but he still frowned and leant back in his chair with defeat. "See?"

She gently took hold of his wand arm and guided him in the right motion. "You do it like this, see? Your movement was too harsh – it has to be smoother."

It took a few more goes and three disfigured snails before Edgar finally managed to vanish the whole of his snail. He cheered loudly and thanked Hermione heartily.

Beaming at her pupil, she sat down again behind her desk. This is when she really enjoyed teaching. Helping them learn and overcome difficulties in their education just gave her the best feeling in the world.

As the lesson drew to a close, Hermione couldn't wait to tell Draco. She knew he probably wouldn't care but still – she had to tell _someone_. She knew Draco didn't have a free period next so she quickly followed her fifth years out and scurried down to the dungeons where he was just sending out his own class. He grinned when he saw her and checked the coast was clear before planting a large kiss upon her lips.

"Hello," she breathed, pulling away. "I have something exciting to tell you!"

Narrowing his eyes, he gazed at her shrewdly. "What?"

"This boy Edgar couldn't vanish anything properly and I helped him! I helped him do it, Draco!" She gushed happily.

He rolled his eyes and snorted. "Honestly? Is that what you wanted to tell me? Seriously, Hermione, you've been teaching here for seven months – I would have been worried if you hadn't helped someone already."

She ignored him and continued to smile. "I was so happy, and the look upon his face when he finally did it …"

"Yes, yes, I know the look," he said impatiently but hugged her all the same. "You are funny, Hermione."

She kissed his ear. "Draco," she began suddenly.

"Yes?" He leant back and searched her face. "What's the matter?"

"Don't you think we should have that conversation again?" Hermione suggested a little guiltily. She wanted to talk about it and had done for the past couple of weeks, but she knew that Draco was still a bit weird about the whole thing despite him instigating it in the first place.

"About what?" he asked, knowing full well what she wanted to say.

"You know … us moving in together?"

"Hermione," he pulled away from their embrace and squeezed the bridge of his nose. "I don't think this is a good time."

"When _is_ a good time, Draco?" Hermione pouted, her happy mood quickly dissipating. "I know you – you'll either be tired, or busy or _not ready_."

He laughed bitterly. "Chill, Hermione, we will talk about this, I promise."

"Oh, we better, because if you aren't tired, busy or not ready to talk about something, you're certainly game for having sex! I won't be used like that." She scowled. "And I want a good reason as to why we can't talk about this right now!"

"Because I have a class and they're standing right behind you." He replied tiredly.

True to his word, a group of second year students were huddled together looking alarmed at the sight of their vexed Transfiguration Professor. Hermione blanched. Well, this was certainly embarrassing. Having a lover's tiff in front of twelve year olds was never a good thing. Nor was mentioning your sex life. Face burning with shame, she sent a wordless apology in Draco's direction before hurrying out of the dungeons wanting nothing more than to hide under her duvet for the rest of the year.

**_Please review! Thank you all so much :D_**


	18. Chapter 18

_**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**  
><em>

_Chapter 18_

The exams dawned as a hanging black cloud over the students of Hogwarts. As the warm sunshine streamed through the large panes throughout the castle, many fifth and seventh year students stared wistfully outside where they could see the rest of the pupils relaxing. Hermione tried to distract them by making revision as riveting as possible, but what student would choose reading Transfiguration notes over lying out in the grounds without a care in the world?

May had flown by in a flurry of last minute cramming sessions, wand waving and muttering. In one of her rare free afternoons where a student wasn't running up to her shaking parchment in her face, Hermione grabbed Draco and they went to see Ron. The meeting had been strained to say the least. The two chaps didn't even shake hands and Hermione made awkward conversation for two hours. However, despite the ever present animosity between Ron and Draco, Hermione felt at ease knowing that she and her fiery tempered best friend were back on track. On returning to the castle, Draco's mood had perked up and he even broached the subject of them moving into his house again.

"No," Hermione had said firmly.

"What?" He had stopped in his tracks and stared after her incredulously. "But I-"

"I've been thinking long and hard about this," She had interrupted him with a flourish of her hand, "and have decided that I will not move in with you. _You_ will move in with _me_."

He had then scowled and folded his arms, cheeks pinking. "I thought we had discussed this?"

"Yes. And I think it's for the best, seriously. We can keep your home as a second one or whatever you want to call it and if we …" at that point, Hermione had broken off, sensing she was entering dangerous ground.

"If we what?" Draco's eyes had narrowed dangerously. "What Hermione?"

"Nothing!"

And that had been the end of that conversation. She had scurried off back to her rooms, wishing that she could learn to keep her big mouth shut.

That had all happened two weeks ago and now the laziness of summer was swamping her mind as she closed her eyes in the June sun. It was the last Hogsmeade weekend of the year and she was currently zoning out of the conversation that Harry, Ginny and Ron were in the middle of - Draco had suddenly found he had a pile of work to be marked when Hermione asked if he had wanted to go. So, she'd arrived in the back garden of the Three Broomsticks at lunchtime, greeting her best friends and planting a kiss on little James's forehead as she sat down on the picnic bench.

"Hermione? Hermione!" Ginny's voice interrupted her thoughts and she reluctantly opened her eyes.

"Yes?" She glanced at the red-head. Ginny looked positively beautiful in the sunshine, the light glinting off the many different colours and shades of her hair.

"Were you listening?"

"No." She replied simply and then smiled. "Okay, sorry, what were you all saying?"

"Do you want to come to the Burrow this summer?" Ron asked eagerly, slopping Butterbeer down his front in his hurry to tell her. So far, he'd been trying very hard to be pleasant and nice to her – it reminded Hermione of the time when they had been searching for Horcruxes and Ron had returned. She found it rather stifling.

She hesitated. "Er, what do you mean? Don't you think we're … a-"

"A little old?" Ginny finished for her sympathetically. She turned to her brother: "See, I _told_ you she'd say that, Ronald."

"I don't mean for the whole summer," he protested, ears reddening. "Just for a couple of days?"

Hermione shrugged. "Maybe, I'll have to see what Draco's doing. It could be a … busy summer for us. Thanks, though, I appreciate the offer."

"Busy summer?" Harry raised an eyebrow, rocking his son in his arms as he began to whinge.

She blew air out from her cheeks. "We're trying to figure out if we should move in together."

"Oh dear, _Merlin_." Ron muttered darkly.

"Shut up," Ginny prodded him. "Any idea whose house? Will you buy one?"

"No," Hermione shook her head, laughing slightly. "We're at a loss. He thinks we should move in to his purely because it's bigger and better and keep mine as a _second home_." Ron snorted loudly and she ignored him, carrying on. "I think we should move into mine because it makes more sense, and if he really can't bear to give up his own house then we can keep that too, I don't care. It's all a bit silly, really."

"He's got money though, so I guess he can afford it." Ginny shrugged, taking James from Harry and summoning a bottle from her bag, she proceeded to feed the gurgling boy.

"I suppose," Hermione sighed, wishing she knew what to do.

"You guys are pretty serious, then." Harry said, staring at her ominously from behind his glasses.

"Yes, Harry, we are quite serious." She rolled her eyes. "We've been together for almost a year _and_ it's Draco Malfoy. I think one week is pretty serious in itself."

"It's gone so fast though, I can't believe it!" Ginny gushed.

Hermione nodded heartily. "I know! If you had told me a year ago that I would be thinking about moving in with Draco Malfoy, I would have admitted you to St Mungo's."

They all laughed and the subject changed to what they were going to order when Madam Rosmerta wandered over.

After she left, leaving a blushing Ron in her wake, Hermione turned to him, smirking.

"Have you still got eyes for the barmaid, Ronald?"

"No!" he spluttered incredulously. "I don't _fancy_ her, honestly, Hermione. I'm allowed to _appreciate_ her looks though."

"She's old enough to be your mum," Harry remarked, shaking his head in mock disappointment.

"I don't fancy her!" Ron said loudly, gaining the attention of a few other customers. He blushed and hunched down over his Butterbeer.

Ginny snorted and then groaned as James let a large dribble of warm sick run down the back of her neck as she burped him. "Harry, can you _Scourgify _me, please?"

Her husband obliged, hiding a smirk as he cleaned the mess off his son and Ginny. "There you go."

"Thank you," Ginny beamed and pecked him on the lips before placing James in a more comfortable position.

Hermione watched the interaction between her two best friends and felt an overwhelming sense of joy. She was so happy for them both, especially Harry, as he completely deserved to have this wonderful time of freedom with his family for the rest of his life, no Horcruxes, Death Eaters or Voldemort hanging over him like a dark shadow.

"So, Ron," Harry disturbed her train of thought. "Any women on the horizon for you?"

He shook his head determinedly. "No, definitely not. I'm having a well earned break."

"Why?" laughed Hermione.

"Because you all just mess with our heads," Ron replied stoutly. "I can't deal with it anymore."

"Right," Ginny giggled. "Whatever you say, Ron. How's work going?"

Harry sighed. "Ginny, you know we can't tell you anything so stop trying to get it out of your brother."

His wife pouted and answered Hermione's confused look. "They're working on a pretty big case. All I know," she began in a whisper, "is that there's some illegal immi-"

"Ginny," Harry said sharply and she shut her mouth quickly, eyes twinkling.

The men were saved, fortunately, by Madam Rosmerta reappearing with their lunches.

"Oh, Ginny, I've just remembered!" Hermione almost kicked herself. "It's Draco's birthday next Friday – I completely forgot!"

"We'll go shopping straight after lunch," Ginny replied calmly, handing James to Harry so he could put him in the pram. "You're okay looking after him for the afternoon, aren't you?"

"Er," Harry hesitated, "well, me and Ron were planning to go and see Neville …"

"Perfect," she smiled sweetly. "He'd love to see his godson."

"Neville's godfather?" Hermione asked in surprise. "I had no idea!"

"You're godmother so it makes sense he has a godfather too," Harry pointed out.

"So, Harry?" Ginny asked again.

"So?"

"You're taking James with you."

"But-"

"Me and Hermione need some quality time together," she said fiercely. "We won't be long, a couple of hours at most, okay?"

Harry gazed at her meekly. "Okay."

They both stood up and gathered their bags. "See you boys in a bit."

As soon as Hermione and Ginny had left the Three Broomsticks, they went straight down the road and into Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop. Smirking at each other, they sat down and burst out laughing, amazed that they had both thought of exactly the same thing.

"I just thought we needed a bit of a girly chat before we did anything!" Ginny gasped, trying to steady the giggles that kept escaping her lips.

"I know," Hermione hiccupped in return. "I think it's a brilliant idea."

When both of them had regained their composure and ordered two large cups of coffee, Hermione leant forward and gazed at her best friend, scrutinising her face.

"You've not been sleeping well," she said shrewdly.

"Well, _duh_, that's what happens when you have children, Hermione." Ginny rolled her eyes. "You'll experience it one day and you'll see."

"I thought sleeping patterns would be in place for James now," she replied, slightly surprised.

"Not when he has three month colic or whatever they call it," Ginny shook her head and pulled a face.

"Nothing a bit of magic can't sort out, right?"

"It's not been working," she said hopelessly. "It's so strange, it just seems to make it worse. Mum's completely baffled." She stirred her coffee before taking a sip. "I mean, she's had seven kids and at least one would have had colic – she knows every remedy under the sun but nothing's working for James."

"Have you tried any Muggle methods?"

"Mum doesn't know any, and Harry hardly had the best Muggle upbringing." Ginny gave a wry smile.

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "Hello, let me reintroduce myself – I'm Hermione Granger and I'm a _Muggleborn_."

Ginny's eyes lit up. "Oh yeah! How could I forget!"

"Yeah, how could you forget?" Hermione repeated, narrowing her eyes. "I've only been your friend for the past ten years."

She blushed a deep crimson. "Sorry."

Hermione laughed, "I'm only joking, Gin, don't worry too much."

"So?"

"Ah yes, well." Hermione drummed her fingers against the table. "Have you tried massaging his stomach, burping him a lot? There isn't a specific remedy really; you just have to help him be as comfortable as possible."

Ginny sighed, resting her head in her hands. "Do you think that's why the magic doesn't work?"

"No," Hermione replied quietly. "I don't know about that, but just try some of these methods. I know someone who even swaddled their baby and rolled them like a sausage dog."

"Like a _what_?" Ginny asked, completely aghast.

"A sausage dog, you know, the ones with the really long body?" Hermione explained. "I think it worked, actually."

"Oh, perhaps I'll give it a go." Ginny smiled. "Thanks, Hermione."

"Glad to be of service. So, everything going well with Harry?"

"I think so," she replied slowly. "He just … he just doesn't …" she paused, not sure of how to carry on.

"Seem very paternal?" Hermione finished for her.

Ginny nodded, biting her lip. "I hate to say it, I feel like I'm betraying him."

"No, Gin, it's fine," she held her hand and squeezed it. "I can see why you feel like that. But, if I'm honest, I think Harry will be a wonderful father. You just have to give him time – he's still adjusting to it. And like you said, he didn't have the best upbringing."

Ginny heaved a sigh. "I hope you're right, Hermione, I really do."

"I know I'm right," she said firmly. "I know I'm right because Harry _wants_ to be a good father – he told me himself. And that's the best thing you could ask for."

"Thanks, Hermione." Ginny replied after letting her words sink in. "You're amazing."

"I know," she replied brightly, downing the rest of her coffee. "Right, are you ready to shop?"

* * *

><p>Hermione hugged Ginny goodbye at the gates of Hogwarts. "Thank you so much for coming with me, Gin, I couldn't have done it without you!"<p>

"That's alright," she smiled and looked up wistfully at the castle. "I wish I could go back in there."

"I would offer but I don't think it's a good idea letting a war hero come wandering through the corridors in the midst of exams." Hermione said sympathetically.

"True," Ginny laughed and kissed her on the cheek. "I'll see you when you finish for the summer! Write to me!"

"Definitely!" She called out as Ginny walked away and Disapparated with a wave.

Smiling to herself, Hermione headed back into the school, shrinking Draco's present and slipping it into her pocket as she did so. A part of her was slightly unsure about how he was going to react to it, but after she had voiced these concerns to Ginny, she was almost slapped. Obviously, her best friend thought it'd be perfect. She was going to have to pop back to Hogsmeade just to finalise things, and although there was a nagging feeling deep inside her, she knew this would make him very happy indeed.

Hermione trudged the last few steps and emerged into the Entrance Hall noticing how quiet it all seemed. It was apparent that the majority of the students were in Hogsmeade, but as Hermione made her way slowly up to her quarters, she spied one or two pupils hurrying around a corner, several books clutched under their arms.

She reached her portrait, mumbled the password and then entered her living room, looking forward to lying down on the sofa with a glass of lemonade and a book. She almost screamed, however, when two arms wrapped around her waist and some lips pressed gently against her jaw line.

"Bloody _hell_, Draco!" She whirled around, wriggling free from his grasp and slapped him on the arm. "I was going to hex you!"

He stifled a laugh and smirked at her outraged expression.

"What have I told you about coming in to my rooms without me?" She continued, proceeding to waggle a finger in his face. "I should talk to that portrait that's _apparently_ not meant to let anyone in."

"Hermione," Draco began, grabbing a hold of her as she began to storm back outside. "I know your password and the amount of times I've been here; she's bound to know who I am."

"So? You could be … imperiused! Someone could be under disguise with Polyjuice Potion!" She wailed, though fought less vigorously to free herself. She sighed, tired from the effort, and Draco released her, still with that ridiculous smirk upon his face.

"That's not very likely, sorry, Hermione." He kissed her lightly on the nose. "Have a nice day in Hogsmeade?"

"Yes, it was lovely, thanks." She suddenly remembered his present in her pocket so she hurried into her room, shutting the door behind her.

"Hermione?" he called from the other side, perplexed.

"I'll just be a minute!" Taking his gift, she enlarged it back to its natural size and shoved it in her bedside drawer. She then made an effort to bang lots of cupboard doors and throw some shoes on the floor as if she was looking for something.

When she re-entered the living room, her face was flushed and hair dishevelled. Draco raised an eyebrow. "Er, are you okay?"

"Yes," she replied brightly. "Just looking for this." She held up a hair band with a grin.

"Right …" he scratched his head awkwardly. "Anyway, I came up here to see if you wanted to do something."

"Well, I'm actually quiet tired," as if to emphasise her point, she yawned. "But you could stay here if you wanted. I'll probably read a book or something."

"Okay, but can't you tell me about your day first? Did the Weasel speak to you?" Draco asked, plopping down on the sofa himself. Hermione ignored him but came over with _Teacher's Guide to Transfiguration_ – she sat down and propped her legs up in his lap.

"Well, we had a lovely lunch and James is just _gorgeous_." Her eyes lit up as she mentioned her godson. "Then, Ginny and I went shopping."

"Shopping? What did you buy?"

"Er, nothing really," she replied hastily. "There wasn't much in the shops that I liked."

"Oh nice," Draco stroked her legs absent-mindedly as he thought. "Everything was okay with Weasel then?"

"Yes, Draco, everything was fine with _Ron_," she said scathingly. "Just leave it alone now, it's over. I know you don't like to talk to him and believe me, the feeling is mutual."

"Good," he replied stoutly.

"Draco …" she sighed, holding a hand up to shield her eyes. She honestly looked shattered and he suddenly felt guilty for his open hatred of the red headed fool. But, then again, the Weasel didn't try very hard to hide his own distaste.

"What?" He asked, prompting her a little. Her face showed that she still wanted to talk some more.

"Well, if we stay together for … a long time, will you just try and get along with him?" she looked away, dreading his reply.

He sighed. "I guess, but don't get angry if I hex him after a few meetings. I'm sorry it's like this."

"Me too," she murmured.

"But I will try, I promise." He took her free hand and kissed it gently.

"I suppose that's all I can ask of you right now," she mused, smiling slightly. "Anyway, I want to read."

Draco glanced at the title of her book and blanched. "You're reading a teacher's _guide_? Are you serious?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I am. It's rather interesting to see how our methods differ." She answered sniffily.

"You amaze me sometimes, Hermione, you really do." Draco muttered, leaning back against the sofa and closing his eyes. "You sound like Umbridge."

"Sorry? Don't ever compare me to that _hag_."

"Well, you're reading a teacher's guide for a start. That's one similarity."

"And that's about the only thing." She remarked sharply. "I can't believe you just said that. It's like the ultimate insult."

"Alright, I'm sorry, I take it all back." Draco said sarcastically, opening his eye a crack to wink at her. "You're a wonderful, individual, brilliant witch and I'd never compare you to anyone else."

"Thanks."

"Wake me when you're finished."

* * *

><p>The morning of Draco's birthday swung round with a speed that even the Snitch couldn't outpace. With it came happiness, not just for Draco, but for the rest of the school – that Friday meant the last of the exams and so as soon as the final bell rang for the end of the day, the Hogwarts pupils rushed outside to have a long, relaxed weekend chilling in the sunshine. A couple of days before, Hermione had popped back to Diagon Alley to finalise and sort out the finishing touches to Draco's present. It was almost with a heavy heart that she did so, but as soon as she reminded herself that this would <em>hopefully<em> be what Draco wanted, her mood lifted.

She had made him wait all day for his present, only granting him a special birthday kiss in the morning before breakfast. He had tried all of his Slytherin tactics to try and get it out of her, but she outsmarted him, skating around the answer or just not bothering to respond at all.

Now, as they strolled around the grounds together, Hermione fingered the present in her pocket feeling giddy at the thought of handing it to him.

"Hermione," Draco began sighing, "is _now_ the right time? Please?"

Glancing around her she stopped their walking and looked up at him with a nervous smile. "Okay then, birthday boy."

His eyes followed her hand as reached back into her pocket and brought out an envelope. He couldn't stop the frown marring his forehead. Just an envelope? She held it out to him, her face displaying no emotion, and he took it gently.

"Happy birthday, Draco," She murmured as he pulled apart the paper to reveal one sheet of parchment to which he scanned several times before his eyes widened.

"Hermione, is this …" he reread the letter and then found her signature once again printed neatly at the bottom. "Are you serious?"

"I think so," she replied dryly with a grin. "I decided to go with the option of keeping it as a second home, but there's no problem in renting it out to get some extra income, is there?"

"Hermione," he whispered again, looking up at her finally. His eyes were alight with excitement, a large smile stretching across his face. "This is just amazing. I – thank you."

He brought her into a crushing hug and she could have burst with happiness. Ginny was right – she was silly to think that he wouldn't have liked this! Renting out her cottage so she could move in with Draco … it wasn't such a bad idea. "Happy birthday," she said again, kissing him strongly on the lips when they broke apart.

"Best birthday present ever. It beats the gift from my parents for my eighteenth which was my house." Draco smirked, wrapping his arm around her shoulders as they continued to walk in the sun. "You get to move in with me."

"Oh no, what have I agreed to?" Hermione grimaced.

"That was feeble," he laughed, almost bouncing along.

"Yeah, well." She shrugged and stared at him. "Do you know what you remind me of, doing that?"

"No, what?" he asked, an eyebrow raised.

"That time in fourth year when Professor Moody turned you into a ferret." She laughed loudly, the sound echoing out across the grounds.

"That was not funny!" he replied hotly. "It was a very harrowing experience."

"It was _hilarious_," she continued to laugh, clutching onto his arm to keep her balance. "It was such a good moment."

"How can you say that?" He asked incredulously. "I could have died!"

That just made Hermione howl even more and tears began to leak from her eyes. "D-died? Oh, Draco!"

They had stopped walking and he just stared at her, lips twitching. He couldn't laugh; he couldn't give her the satisfaction of knowing that she made him laugh at his own expense. No, he'd remain as cold and as hard as a statue. "Are you quite finished?"

"No," she snorted. "I keep thinking of you bouncing around the hall, and then your expression afterwards. Oh, Draco, if you could have seen yourself."

"What was it like?" he asked before he could think. Damn it.

"You were the colour of a sunset with all your clothes and hair dishevelled. Not like the usual Draco Malfoy." She said almost tenderly.

"Really," he murmured, bending down to kiss her lips once she managed to hold a giggle in for more than five seconds. "You know, technically it wasn't Professor Moody."

"I know," Hermione said, suddenly subdued. Draco regretted saying that – what a way to kill the mood. "Still, it was bloody hysterical."

That set him off – he chuckled lightly and then Hermione cracked a smile before they set each other off in a round of laughter. He was ecstatic! Jubilant! So incredibly happy! No woman had ever made him feel like this before in his short twenty two years of life. If he knew exactly how she felt about him, if he knew for certain that she felt exactly how he felt in this moment, then he would honestly get down on one knee and beg her to be his wife.

_**Well, I know that was overly fluffy but oh well. I hope you enjoyed it, anyway. Thanks for all your support so far!**_


	19. Chapter 19

_**Disclaimer: I own nothing. **_

_**Sorry for the late update - I hope this chapter is worth it, though, because I loved writing this! Enjoy and please review (with a cherry on top)!**_

_Chapter 19_

Saturday brought Hermione an interesting proposition from Draco. After eating breakfast together and going back to his rooms – the June weather had taken a turn for the worse and the rain splattered noisily against the windows – they sat on his sofa, content to be in each other's company and savour the quiet moments of Hogwarts life.

"Hermione," Draco began, massaging the ball of her foot as she dozed lightly. She hadn't slept well the night before and initially didn't want to see him because she was so aware of the huge bags under her eyes. He soon made her realise that he didn't give a damn.

"Mm?"

"I was thinking-"

"Oh, dear, not again." She groaned and opened her eyes properly.

He squeezed her foot harder than necessary and she winced whilst he gave her his most Slytherin smirk. "I was thinking," Draco repeated. "Well. Do you think it would be a good idea …"

"A good idea …?"

"… to see Weasley, Scarhead and Co.?" he mumbled the rest of the sentence, looking down with shame.

"What?" she asked dumbly but when Draco refused to repeat himself, she shook her head. "Are you _sure_ you aren't Imperiused?"

Draco shrugged. "I don't know myself. I just – I just think it would help."

"With _what_?" Hermione said aghast. "You all hate each other! Aside from Ginny and _possibly_ Harry. _Possibly_."

"I know, I know," he said impatiently, waving his hand. "But listen, hear my logic: if I get into their good books now, then it'll be much easier in the … the future."

"The future?"

He blushed a little. "Yes, the future. I can't keep you from your friends, can I?"

"I should hope not! I thought you knew better than to even think that, Draco!" Hermione said a little affronted.

"Well, I did think about chaining you up and keeping you down the cellar, or perhaps letting you roam my house and keep some wards up, but I don't think that would have gone down too well." He answered drily.

She gazed at him in bemusement before bursting into laughter and giving him a light slap on the arm. "Do you know what, I never would have expected that of you."

"I am a Slytherin after all," he flashed her a smile, wiggling his eyebrows. "So, what do you say?"

She groaned. "Do we have to? It'll be painful."

"Come on," he coaxed more gently this time. "You won't be able to keep us separate the whole of your life."

Her stomach gave a tiny lurch at this. Was Draco really dropping hints or was he being a typical male and raising her hopes unknowingly? Either way, she couldn't stop the rising excitement and it took all her strength to respond with a simple, morose, "okay."

He snorted and then shook his head. "I can't believe I'm convincing you to see your own friends who hate me."

She shrugged, still trying to appear nonchalant. "It is rather strange." _Now's a good time to change the subject, Hermione, come on, use that excellent mind of yours_, a thought nagged at her brain and she coughed, sitting up properly on the sofa. "So, are you planning to go on holiday this year?"

He looked at her oddly, quirking an eyebrow. "Er … I'm not sure."

"Oh." _Good response there, Hermione_. She scowled. "I think I might go to the Burrow for a few days."

"Ah, like old times," he teased, poking her in the rib.

"It's not _old_ – we did it last year. I'd say it's still rather new." She replied haughtily. "Anyway, you should come along."

He laughed awkwardly. "Let's just take things slowly, yeah?"

Her stomach dropped at that moment, a cold, icy wave sweeping through her chest. Slowly? Now? Did that mean he wasn't interested in marriage any time soon? They were going to move in together! She bit her lip and tried to keep her expression neutral, attempting to hide the turmoil going on inside her brain. "Yeah, okay."

Draco watched Hermione a little worriedly. Although she was the brightest witch of her age, she definitely couldn't disguise her emotions behind a blank face. After being in Slytherin, Draco knew all the tricks of the trade he could tell Hermione had a long way to go before she could successfully master this talent. He didn't know whether to press the subject or not. She suddenly seemed rather deflated and he wasn't sure if that was down to seeing her own friends or because he said to take things slowly. She could hardly expect him and her cronies to hit it off straight away – taking it slowly with them _was_ the right thing to do. Right?

* * *

><p>For Draco, the next couple of days were horrible - he felt their relationship had suddenly taken a turn for the worse. Hermione seemed to be reluctant to spend time with him and when she did decide to grace him with her presence, their conversation was stilted and very awkward. He was terribly confused and as the last day of term came upon them, he was even more worried as she was meant to be moving in with him within the next two weeks. It also didn't help that she had arranged to meet with Harry, Ron and Ginny the very same day, choosing a new coffee shop in Diagon Alley.<p>

He tried to catch Hermione's eye as they escorted the students onto the train, making sure to glare at a second year who attempted to trip up his companion as they stepped into one of the carriages. However, her wavy brown hair was nowhere to be seen and it wasn't until the train began its journey south that he actually spotted her, leaning on her suitcase and staring sadly at the floor.

"Hey," he said quietly, approaching her tentatively. It really pained him that he had to be so careful around her – he wished she'd just come out and tell him what he'd done wrong!

"Hi," she replied, glancing up and giving him a smile which certainly didn't meet her eyes. "Are you ready?"

He nodded. "What are we doing with our bags?"

"Shrink them, put them in your pocket," she shrugged. "It doesn't matter."

After choosing not to question her aloofness just yet, Draco did what she suggested and they Apparated to Diagon Alley, leaving the security and wonder of Hogwarts behind. They went swiftly through the Leaky Cauldron into the street and heads turned as the unexpected couple, which no one had seen together in the flesh for nine months, strolled down together with heads held high. Suddenly, photographers popping out from nowhere swarmed them and he placed a protective arm around Hermione's waist. If her stiffening against his touch hurt him, he didn't show it as he flashed a smile and calmly moved through the buzzing of wizarding journalists, their Quick Quotes Quill skimming across parchment as they demanded answers.

"If you'll excuse us, we have somewhere to be," Draco said smoothly, leaving the throng behind.

"Nicely done," Hermione mused, a flicker of a true smile on her face. It was the first one in a while and Draco had to fight a grin of his own before replying with a shrug.

"You learn how to handle them after a while."

She didn't reply but guided him gently towards the meeting place, taking his hand off from her waist and squeezing it lightly before letting it go. Draco wasn't sure what to make of that. Was that a sign she had forgiven him for whatever absurd thing he had done? He definitely hoped so. He was getting rather tired of this cold demeanour she had adopted.

Hermione spotted Ginny's flaming red hair and she rushed over to greet her, leaving Draco to stand awkwardly beside Harry and the baby.

"So, Potter. Haven't seen you in a while." Draco inclined his head slightly towards the dark haired man.

"Yeah, Ginny was only a few months pregnant the last time we met." Harry replied with a genuine smile. "How are you?"

He shrugged. "I've been better."

Hermione and Ginny had finished saying hello at this point and she turned to look at him sharply, a frown etched upon her face. Before she could speak, however, Ginny cut in. "Sorry, Ron's going to be a little late – he's doing a little shopping for something or other."

"I'm not complaining," Draco said in a low mutter and he earned a pinch on the arm from Hermione.

"Shut it." She hissed, almost quite nastily. Maybe he hadn't been forgiven …

The four of them, plus James, sat down in the sunshine and there was an awkward silence for a moment or two, broken by a loud gurgle from the little baby as he clenched a fist around a floating toy monkey. The charm broke and the toy landed squarely upon his rosy face, causing him to let out a large whine whilst tears began to well in his eyes.

Harry gave a large and heavy sigh, lifting the toy up and tapping it with his wand to make it float above James's head once again. "He keeps doing that and I can't figure out a way to stop it from breaking. It's like popping a bubble."

"Hmm," Hermione frowned a little before reaching for her wand and muttering a word Draco had never heard before. "That should work."

All eyes were upon the toy as James's hand grabbed it again but this time, thank Merlin, it stayed afloat and James smiled happily.

"Brilliant, Hermione, you'll have to teach me that one!" Harry said enthusiastically, giving her a bright smile.

"Do it later, Ron's here." Ginny nodded towards the bustling street where a red-haired Ron was clutching two full shopping bags. He smiled when he saw his friends, but, after spying Draco sitting close to Hermione, the expression turned to a neutral mask.

Harry dragged a chair over and Ron collapsed into it, dumping the bags by his chair. "Been busy, have you?"

Ron rolled his eyes. "Mum wanted me to get all this stuff for her because she's been so preoccupied lately with Merlin knows what." He glanced at Ginny in annoyance. "I can't understand why she didn't ask _you_. You're the woman. I don't know anything about shopping."

"Oh really, you can't think of anything?" Ginny asked, blinking pointedly. "Nothing at all? Not even _one_ tiny, miniscule detail?"

Her brother glared at her before conceding. "All right, yeah, you have a _baby_ but that doesn't stop you from doing your own shopping, does it?"

As Ginny sighed, shaking her head in exasperation, Draco let out a large snort without thinking.

"Oh." Ron turned to him with a sneer etched across his face. Draco thought he resembled the time in second year when Ron's curse backfired and he began to regurgitate slugs. He stifled a smirk. "I almost forgot you were here for a moment."

"I wish I could myself, Weasley, but we can't have everything in life." He responded sharply. He was beginning to regret the idea of meeting with Hermione's friends. They were positively unbearable.

"Right," Ginny said loudly, getting the attention of a waiter as she caught his eye. "What would you like?"

The waiter scribbled down their orders and soon left, leaving another awkward silence with the group. Hermione glanced at Draco who raised his eyebrows and she glowered at him in return. Was she serious? Honestly? He was beginning to lose his temper very quickly now, and he made a very firm mental note to confront Hermione about her recent behaviour after this meeting. Bloody hell, she was being so difficult!

Harry coughed lightly. "So, Draco, how's life at Hogwarts?"

"It's good, actually." He replied with a shrug. "This year was better than last year."

"How so?" Ginny chimed in, squeezing her husband's hand gratefully whilst giving Draco a cheeky smile. "Are the students or Professors any … different?"

Draco opened his mouth to say 'yes' but then thought better. If Hermione wanted to be a bitch, then so could he. "No, just the students seem a lot nicer. Maybe it's because I was still learning the ropes last year, but other than that, it's pretty much the same." He cast a sideways glance towards Hermione who was frowning darkly at the table. What did she expect him to say? That it was all down to her? Not likely to happen when she was being so difficult.

Ginny and Harry looked at each other worriedly and Ron yawned noisily, prodding Harry in the shoulder to grab his attention. "Hey, has Kingsley spoken to you about Murray?"

"No, what's happened?" Harry asked, switching his gaze to Ron.

"Oi!" Hermione said loudly. "No discussing business at the table, you two."

Ron groaned and slumped back in his chair. He struggled a bit, as if he was fighting some mental battle, before eventually muttering: "Fine. Malfoy, which Quidditch team do you support?"

"Slytherin."

"That's not a team," Ron said slowly, trying to hide a sneer from his face.

"Yes it is. It's a Hogwarts team." Draco replied snidely, taking secret pleasure in the fact that he knew he was being incredibly annoying.

"Okay then, what team do you support which _isn't in Hogwarts_." Ron said slowly as if talking to a child.

"The United Kingdom." Oh he was enjoying himself immensely.

Ron's ears were beginning to turn red and Draco spied Ginny hiding a smile behind her hand. Even Harry's mouth twitched slightly. "Merlin's beard, Malfoy, you're still so bloody annoying! Would you just tell me which _regional_ Quidditch team you like?"

"Well, _liking_ a team is so di-"

"Draco," Hermione warned him dangerously. Darn her for ruining his fun.

"So the _regional_ team, you say" Draco nodded his head slowly as if finally understanding. "It would have to be The Tornadoes."

Ron shook his head and snorted. "Poor choice."

"Oh, let me guess – you support the Cannons?" Draco asked conversationally.

"Yes." Came the short reply.

"Poor choice," Draco mimicked with a very large smirk.

The two men fell silent and glared at each other with equal levels of animosity. Ron opened his mouth to say some snide remark when the waiter came back over, levitating a tray with his wand. After handing the orders out, he soon left but by then, the moment had passed at Ron fell into a dark sulk.

Draco sipped his cappuccino carefully and looked over to Hermione to gauge her reaction. She still seemed to be annoyed with him and was sure not even to breathe in his direction. Considering they were sitting next to each other, it forced Hermione to turn to the café and made her look as if she was fed up with everyone there. He smiled behind his cup and gently broke up his biscuit, finding that he was enjoying this day out more than he expected.

"It was the last day of Hogwarts, wasn't it?" Harry asked Hermione.

She nodded and cracked a smile. "I'll miss it actually, even though I was fed up with the students the majority of the time. Plus all that drama at the beginning of the year. I won't miss _that_."

"Drama? What drama?" Ron asked, perking back up again now Draco wasn't involved in the conversation.

"The whole thing with Jack, don't you remember?" Hermione shuddered. "It happened around my birthday …"

"He was probably sulking because you broke up with him around that time, didn't you?" Ginny mused, grinning at Ron who glowered in return.

"How can you remember all this?" He wondered aloud.

Harry snorted. "Because you spent the next few weeks holed up in your flat refusing to see anyone."

He turned a bright crimson whilst Draco spluttered on his coffee._ This _was interesting. "Harry!"

Hermione bit back a laugh. "Really, Ron? We only went out for about a week."

"He was still in love with you though," Ginny said sympathetically, answering for him. Ron looked close to slapping his own sister and he made a movement as if to get up and leave.

"Don't go, mate," Harry laughed and clapped him on the back. "It's only a bit of fun."

"Yeah …" he muttered darkly, shooting a furtive look in Draco's direction who was suddenly very interested in his coffee. "Only a bit of fun."

Draco was having a whale of a time, except the conversation had yet again drawn to a close. He decided to take matters into his own hands. "So, Potter, do you still play Quidditch at all?"

The man shrugged. "Now and again but it's only ever at the Burrow. That's what being an Auror and having a kid does to you."

Draco laughed, albeit falsely. This was Draco Malfoy, here; when and _why_ would he truly laugh at a joke told by Harry Potter? "Still a Seeker?"

"Always," Harry smirked, green eyes glittering. "How about you?"

"I haven't played all year," he said, suddenly feeling quite sad about it. "But usually, yes, I play almost every day."

"Who with?" Ron interjected curiously. "You can't have that many friends to play every day with."

Draco's eyes watched Ron's face coldly until he blinked and looked away. "Believe it or not, Weasley, I can be a very friendly and amiable man. Just because I positively despise your existence doesn't mean I feel the same towards every other living being. Look at me and Hermione."

He then felt Hermione's hand rest on his forearm and he looked at her quickly. She was searching his face, but sadness, not anger, was in her eyes.

Ron gritted his teeth and his fists clenched around the arm rest of the chair. "You're only dating."

"Oh, Ron," Ginny groaned quietly, shaking her head. "Why won't you ever learn?"

"Dating?" Draco asked incredulously. "I'm in _love_ with the woman."

Silence fell on the table as the realisation of what he'd just admitted in front of them all sunk in. Yes, they all _knew_ they were in love, but for Draco to actually _say_ it in front of them? That was … weird.

"Hermione, I saw these _wonderful_ pair of little boots for James in a shop around the corner." Ginny announced loudly. "What say you and Ron come with me and we can have a look?"

Hermione got up immediately, sent an incoherent look in Draco's direction, and went after Ginny, Ron trailing miserably behind after a kick from Harry.

James began to whine, causing his father to pick him up and _Accio_ a bottle from the pram. "I still can't get the hang of this properly," Harry mumbled, awkwardly holding James as he tested the milk's warmth.

"You're doing a better job than I would have done," Draco replied in return, watching the baby's bright blue eyes scrutinise his father's face. There was love there, and complete and utter adoration from a six-month old infant. It was incredible. Draco suddenly wished that he had a child to look at him like that, to look up to him and adore him the way James was with Harry. _You can have that if you marry Hermione_, a voice said inside, causing his stomach to lurch. True, he could. But he still wasn't sure if she felt the same way as him and now he was even more confused because of her mood lately, _plus_ his outburst just then wouldn't have helped in the slightest.

Harry started to feed his son and looked up at Draco with a grin. "Thanks, but this is the easy part now."

He couldn't understand why Harry was so accepting towards him, how he could be so pleasant and nice when he was a twat to him in school. It made him feel guilty and a little jealous. He thought he had got over everything with Hermione, so why couldn't he do it here with Potter? "Do you want more?"

"Children?" Harry questioned, and when Draco nodded, he continued. "Yeah, definitely. I'm not sure how many yet, but they're so worth it."

"Worth what?"

"The pooing, the crying, the sleepless nights … you know, the whole baby stage." Harry explained nonchalantly.

Draco pulled a face. "Is it that bad?"

"Yes," Harry smirked, "but not to put you off or anything. Trust me, it'll pay off in the long run. Do you want kids?"

"Yeah," he said slowly. "I think I do."

"Hermione?" Harry asked cautiously. "Does she?"

His cheeks pinked a little. "I'm not sure; I haven't thought about us that far into the future. I … I – never mind." _Quit while you're ahead, Draco_, he chanted to himself, _don't go pouring out your deepest desires to Scarhead!_

"What?" the war hero asked. "You what?"

"Nothing, Potter." He responded a little too sharply and they both fell silent, avoiding eye contact.

Harry watched him curiously. "Is it marriage? You want to get married to her?"

"No." Came the quick, first reply. "Actually, yes. Yes, I do."

"I could be wrong here," Harry began, burping James over his shoulder, "and Ginny's probably the better one to talk to, but I'm pretty sure she feels the same way."

Draco said nothing but stared at the dregs of his empty coffee cup.

"Like I said, I could be wrong, but maybe you should broach the subject with her." Harry suggested, rocking his sleepy son gently.

"No."

"What?"

Draco looked at Harry coldly. "I'm not broaching the subject with her. I will find out another way."

"Okay," Harry replied a little wary. "It was only an idea, Malfoy."

He bit his lip and didn't answer. What was wrong with him? Why did he have to be so unwelcome and cold to all of them? Why couldn't he bring himself to be pleasant and swallow his pride and do what was right for their relationship?

Their conversation reached an end as the others returned from their brief window-shopping trip. Ron looked slightly more cheerful and Hermione and Ginny were discussing something quietly, their heads bowed low together as they sat down at the table.

"I'll floo you later," Hermione mumbled to her best friend who nodded.

"Nice boots, then?" Harry asked his wife who beamed.

"Oh, yes, they're gorgeous! Please can we get them for James, please?" Ginny begged.

"They weren't that great," Ron muttered.

Draco was amazed to see how his mood had suddenly changed for the worst when he came back to the table. Was he really all that bad? Draco felt quite flattered that he had that effect on people. He smirked at the red-head who glared back in return.

"Did you have a nice chat?" Hermione asked Draco, her features softer and a proper smile on her face. At this, Draco knew he was forgiven and he couldn't stop himself from beaming in return.

"Yes, it was good." It was almost truthful.

"Lovely," Hermione took his hand and kissed him lightly on the knuckles. "What's the time?"

"Er, about two?"

"Would you like to go for lunch somewhere, just the two of us?" she whispered in his ear after leaning forward to drape an arm around his neck. Where was _this_ coming from? Draco wasn't complaining – his day was just getting better.

"Sounds perfect." He grinned and pressed his lips against her cheek.

There was a sound of disgust from beside Hermione and Draco sent an icy stare in Ron's direction. He was going to reply but Hermione beat him to it.

"Oh, would you give it a rest already." She looked angry again and Draco was pleased it wasn't aimed towards him. "All you've been doing today is causing trouble. I'll have you know this was Draco's idea so you'd better grow up very fast otherwise you'll soon find yourself friendless!"

Eight pairs of eyes watched Hermione warily. She was breathing very fast and her expression was furious. Draco expected Ron to shout back and stand his ground but, to his upmost delight, he nodded dumbly and sighed heavily.

"You're right, I know you're right." Ron glanced up at Draco, his expression blank. "I'm sorry."

"Er, right … thanks." Draco trailed off and looked away. This was a truly delicate situation now.

Hermione stood up, fairly satisfied with that brief interaction. "Draco and I are going somewhere for lunch. It was lovely – most of the time – seeing you again. I'm sure we'll have lunch together soon."

Ginny got up, still in shock and hugged Hermione quickly before giving Draco a quick smile.

"See you, Malfoy."

Draco nodded curtly, turned on his heel and walked away, Hermione hurrying to stroll beside him with a big smile on her face.

"You really do confuse me," Draco muttered to her, once they were out of sight from her friends.

She shrugged. "Ron was driving me up the wall, though having said that, you weren't that much better. It was to be expected, though." She added with a sigh.

"I enjoyed myself immensely."

"Are you being sarcastic?"

"No, not at all!" he replied honestly. "I actually had a bit of genuine fun with your friends."

Hermione chuckled. "Good." They paused outside an Italian restaurant. "Lunch?"

**_So! Hope you liked it and I apologise again for the slow update. Just so you know, this is close to finishing - the next chapter will probably be the penultimate, if not the last. Thank you for all your support everyone!_**


	20. Chapter 20

_**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**_

_**This is it! The end! Thank you everyone who has reviewed, etc, it's really encouraged me over the course of writing this! And special thanks to GiantInflatableWalrus for being a wonderful, wonderful beta!**  
><em>

_Chapter 20_

Three lonely boxes were stacked on top of each other by the front door. Two suitcases were leaning against the wall, almost bursting with all the clothes that she had never realised she owned. It was strange, she mused, how you discover items that you thought you'd lost but were just hidden under piles of junk, and you only find them again when you have a thorough clean out. However, everything else was in its usual place looking as though Hermione had just gone away for the weekend. Except, she wasn't returning after three days - she probably wouldn't step foot in the house for a few years yet. Despite only spending a total of two months and twenty eight days in her cottage, Hermione had developed a deep sense of attachment to her home. She sighed sadly and her eyes landed upon the sofa where her tentative relationship with Draco had started. Remembering how she had tripped and then Draco's unexpected help following, she let out a little giggle, causing the very same man to rest a hand on her shoulder.

"What's funny?" he murmured, smiling down at her.

"I was just thinking about our first meeting. Do you remember? After I fell?"

He chuckled. "Ah yes, I seem to recall you saying that you didn't need my help." He smirked.

She poked him in the rib. "I didn't – it was the path's fault."

"Yeah, of course, because paths just go out of their way to trip people up, don't they?" He returned sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "Are you ready to go?"

That wiped the smile from Hermione's face and she pouted at her surroundings once more. "I don't know if I like the idea of someone using my things."

"I did offer to take them with you," Draco pointed out, "but you said that you didn't want to clutter up my house."

"Well, I don't," she replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. She sighed. "It doesn't matter – we'll come back here one day, I'm sure."

"Yeah," Draco trailed off, unsure. Yeah, the cottage was fairly nice but it wasn't really _him_. "Shall we?"

"I suppose so," she smiled sadly one last time before levitating the boxes with her wand and leading them outside. She didn't turn around as Draco shut the door quietly behind them, but quickly shrank the boxes and slipped them into her pocket.

"Would you like to walk or Apparate?" Draco suggested lightly.

"Apparate – I'm knackered." Hermione emphasised this point by giving a huge yawn. She latched on to his outstretched arm and then felt the familiar feeling of being squeezed through a tight tube, before landing with a _pop! _in the grounds of Draco's home. She hadn't actually been to his house since the Summer Ball the previous summer, and if she was honest, not much had changed. That was hardly surprising considering he hadn't actually been at his home; but still, she expected something to be slightly different anyway.

The last week or so had been spent busily packing her needed possessions into boxes and finalising the details for the new tenant. It was a young newlywed couple who had apparently eloped as the bride's family didn't approve of her choice of husband. As far as Hermione was aware, they seemed to be nice and so she was more than happy to lend a helping hand and let out her house. They were, interestingly, muggle, and so Hermione had reluctantly packed some objects which she hoped she could have left, like an old broomstick of Ron's (she wasn't actually sure _why_ she had that still), and a large copper cauldron _purely_ for medicinal purposes. Things like supplies of Floo Powder she simply threw away, and odd ingredients for potions that a Muggle would normally be wary off, joined the Floo Powder in the bin, which she emptied of course – she wasn't one to take risks with this sort of thing.

She pushed those thoughts out her mind as Draco unlocked the front door to her – _their_ new home. That was weird, really weird. She gulped involuntarily as she stepped over the threshold into the still pleasant and beautiful home. _Relax, Hermione, you're being completely stupid_, she mentally chided herself as Draco turned with a large smile upon his face, arms outstretched.

"Welcome home, Hermione."

Hermione spent the best part of a week adjusting to the new living arrangements. It wasn't as though she hated being there; it was just so _strange_ to be living with Draco even though they'd practically done that when they were at Hogwarts. She still hadn't gotten used to waking up next to him, the house elves bringing them cups of tea regularly every morning and the amount of things there were to do in and around Draco's house! When she had first moved into her cottage, she thought the area wasn't as countrified as she had believed. However, only half a mile down the road and Drac- _their _ home could have been in the middle of nowhere. The garden seemed even bigger than when she had last been there and on the first day there, Draco had proudly shown her a garage with two huge quad bikes. Hermione was shocked that Draco even had these muggle vehicles and when she questioned him about it, he smirked and replied with a simple, "I like driving."

Surprising herself, as she usually wasn't one for extreme sports, she had been itching to have a go and she had waited what she deemed a sufficient amount of time before begging him to let her go on. He had obliged with a laugh and they spent a few hours racing each other around his garden, churning up grass as they went. The next few days were spent walking, swimming (he had a little lake hidden around a corner, and Hermione suspected there was some magic involved – there was no _way_ he could have all this in the grounds … was there?), playing chess, quad biking, reading, sunbathing and cooking. Yes, cooking. The third day after moving in with Draco, she had been wondering around his library with wonder when her eyes fell upon a rather large cook book with lots of delicious looking meals. She had broached the subject at dinner that night.

"I didn't know you had a cook book. How very muggle." She had teased with a smirk.

"Really? I wasn't aware of that …" he'd mused, sipping some wine thoughtfully.

"Would you … like to try some?"

"Some what?"

"Recipes. Have a go at them with me." She'd suggested shyly, almost scared of how he was going to react.

"Why? We have house-elves." Draco had replied blankly.

She had rolled her eyes then, a typical Malfoy response. "Come on, it'll be fun. I insist."

So the following day, they spent their time making different meals which they then tried when they got hungry, which was quite often. Their activity left the house-elves in much confusion as they found their most important service wasn't required that day. Hermione almost felt bad. Almost. Truth be told, she wasn't that worried about the treatment of the house-elves in their house – Draco looked after them very well and not only when she was around.

Hermione woke up late one morning, two weeks after moving in with Draco. She yawned and rolled over in their huge queen sized bed and was surprised when she didn't crash into the body of her companion. She sat up in bed then, a frown marring her features with her hair tangled intricately, and glanced around the room expecting to see signs of movement, or for Draco to jump out from behind the chest of drawers and shout, "Surprise!"

When, however, she glanced at the clock, comprehension dawned on her – it was, after all, half past eleven. Feeling a little guilty in sleeping in so late, Hermione quickly hopped out of bed, pulled on her dressing gown and slippers and hurried downstairs. Upon entering the breakfast room for brunch, a house-elf appeared beside her holding out a piece of parchment.

"This is for you, Mistress. Master wishes you have a nice day." The creature bowed with a smile, waited for Hermione to take the note before disappearing with a _crack_.

Slightly bemused, she unfolded the parchment and read the note. He had gone to see his parents to tell them in person about the most recent stage of their relationship. _He kept that quiet_, she grumbled to herself, wishing that she could have gone with him to give them a piece of her mind. Sighing, she tucked into her fry up, wondering what she could do today. Draco said that he probably wouldn't be back until late afternoon, so she had about five or six hours to kill. She wasn't really in the mood for going on the quad bike and as the weather wasn't that great – there was an ominous black cloud coming towards the house – she was restricted to inside the house.

Hermione swallowed her last mouthful before she came up with a final solution. Invite Ginny over! They needed some girl time and this was a perfect day for it. She hurried into the living room where she threw some Floo Powder into the fireplace and yelled the Potters' name. Her voice received no attention for a few minutes before Ginny scurried into view, a crying James clutched under her arm.

"Oh, Hermione, hang on a sec." She set James on the floor where she handed him a transfigured plate – it was now a little toy dragon. "Honestly, he's been a pain all morning; I think he may be teething." She sent her son a grimace but he didn't notice, too absorbed in the new toy which had momentarily halted his winging.

"Tough age," Hermione agreed. "Gin, I'm bored, do you want to come over?"

She grinned. "Definitely, though I'll only be able to stay a few hours – Harry's coming back from work early today …" she trailed off, blushing.

"Date night?" Hermione quirked an eyebrow, smirking.

Her best friend nodded sheepishly. "James is going to mum's. I don't know, Hermione, ever since James has been born we've barely had any time for each other."

"That's cool, Gin, you need space. Look, come over now, my knees are beginning to hurt." Hermione severed the connection and called a house-elf to set up some tea. The creature had just disappeared when the fireplace burst into flames and Ginny stepped out, holding a pacified James. The dragon was clutched tightly in his little hand.

"I think he's found a new friend," Hermione remarked, planting a kiss on her godson's forehead. "How's he doing, anyway?"

"Harry keeps saying I should start him on solids," she laughed incredulously. "The weird thing is, mum was saying it too!"

"When did Harry become the baby expert?" Hermione teased.

"That's exactly what I thought!" Ginny said, shaking her head. She sat James amongst some cushions to give him some support before plonking on the sofa and kicking her shoes off. "Sorry, Hermione, but I'm knackered."

"Don't be too tired for tonight," she replied with a wink, joining her on the sofa.

Ginny grinned excitedly. "Oh, I won't be. I went to Diagon Alley this morning for some … things."

"Ginevra Weasley! What would your mother say!" Hermione cried out in mock outrage.

"Hey, no, not _those_ sort of things! I just bought some nice lingerie." Ginny bit her lip before bursting into giggles.

"Lingerie?" Hermione wriggled her eyebrows. "I hope you have fun tonight."

Ginny glanced around the nicely decorated room. "It seems a nice house, Hermione; you'll have to give me a tour. Where is Draco, anyway?"

"He's gone to see his parents or something, tell them about me moving in with him." She rolled her eyes slightly.

"Really?" Ginny frowned. "I swear I saw him earl-"

There was a _crack_ as the house-elf reappeared with the tea for them both. It bowed before leaving again, and Hermione poured them both a cup and settled back into the cushions of the sofa. "Sorry, what were you saying?"

Ginny hesitated. "Oh, it was nothing, don't worry." For some odd reason, she had thought it best not to repeat what she had been about to say. A nagging feeling in her stomach told her it would not have been a good idea. "So, everything's fine with my git of a brother, then?"  
>Hermione chuckled. "Yes, I suppose it is, though he and Draco are still on tenterhooks with each other. I doubt it'll change anytime soon."<p>

"You never know, Ron might come round."

"As if," Hermione rolled her eyes and stared incredulously at Ginny. "Oh, watch out!"

James had lurched forward in an attempt to grab the dragon that had fallen a few feet away and proceeded to bump his head on the floor. He paused for a moment before opening his mouth to let out a low wail which got louder and louder until Ginny picked him up and shushed him.

"Don't be silly, James, it didn't hurt! Just the shock, come on, now." She rocked him back and forth for a moment until he quietened down, then she held him at arm's length and scrutinised his face. "You see? No tears, James, you can't fool me." She smiled and then pecked a kiss on his forehead before setting firmly back down amongst the cushions, making sure the dragon was clutched tightly in his hand.

"You're a good mother, Gin." Hermione watched her, impressed. "Would you like anymore?"

"Children? I think I would, actually." Ginny said thoughtfully. "We'll probably wait another year or so, though."

"Quite soon then," Hermione raised her eyebrows. "Have you come round to the whole motherhood thing?"

Ginny snorted. "I guess I have. I can't believe I even entertained the thought of getting rid of this little chap." She fondled her son's hair softly. "Honestly, the very idea makes me feel sick."

Hermione smiled sympathetically and looked down at her hands. "I really want kids."

"I know you do …" Ginny paused. "Can you see yourself and … Malfoy?"

A furious red crept up Hermione's neck and cheeks and she bit her lip before nodding. "Yes, I can, I _really_ can."

"Wow, Hermione … you haven't been together a year yet!" Ginny exclaimed, but a huge grin was on her face all the same.

"I know, I know, but it feels right." She insisted. "It really does, Gin, it sometimes feels like we've been together for _ages_." She shook her head. "I just hope he feels the same way … I – never mind."

"Say, come on," Ginny coaxed, leaning forward to place a hand on Hermione's knee.

"I just hope this isn't enough for him, us living together." A feeling of dread swept through Hermione as she imagined herself living in this house for years without a ring on her finger. "Being married would just make it more … concrete, more final."

"Aw, Hermione, don't say that! He's head over heels for you and if I'm honest, Malfoy doesn't strike me as the sort of bloke to just be your 'partner'." Ginny took a sip of her tea. "He's a Malfoy so that means he's traditional. He'll want to do things the correct way."

"You better be right, Gin!" Hermione waggled her finger at her best friend, trying to lighten the serious mood. "Hey, how about that tour now?"

Ginny was amazed by the house. It was big, but not massive, but the way Draco had decorated and furnished the place really gave the home character. There was a mixture of period and contemporary designs throughout the house, but neither outweighed the other and the overall effect was rather pleasant, balanced effect. By the time they had finished, James was falling asleep on her shoulder.

"Would you like to go on the quad bikes? They are _so_ much fun!" Hermione gushed, eyes sparkling.

"Quad _what_?" Ginny repeated, perplexed.

"Muggle invention. You drive on these mini tra-" She stopped as she realised Ginny wouldn't know what a tractor was either. "Look, just come and see and then decide."

"What about James?"

"Levitate him beside you?" Hermione shrugged and then laughed at her horrified face. "Okay, I was joking. We'll think of that in a bit."

Ginny warily obliged and Hermione took them over to the garage where she showed her best friend the machines. She swallowed nervously but, when Hermione hopped onto one and started the ignition, she thought it looked rather fun.

"Look, this is what you do." Hermione showed her the controls quickly before speeding off into the garden, shrieking as she went. The roar of the engine stirred James and he winged a little before Ginny rocked him back into a slumber once again.

When Hermione eventually returned from a brief circuit, Ginny motioned for her to cut the engine quickly. "He'll wake up, Hermione, turn it off!"

The loud grumbling ceased and she grinned at the red head with her sleeping son. "You both look so sweet. Well? Fancy a go?"

"What's this here, ladies?"

Ginny turned to see Draco strolling towards them, a smile on his face. "Hermione was just showing me these … things."

"Ah, the quads." Draco grinned cheekily and kissed Hermione on the cheek in greeting. "Have you had a go yet, Weasley?"

"It's _Potter_, if you'd care to remember, Malfoy." Ginny reprimanded him sharply but there was a twinkle in her eye.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Fine, Potter, have you had a go?"

She shook her head, face paling a little. "James will wake up and I can't leave him alone."

"Draco will hold him, won't you?" Hermione flashed her boyfriend a large smile and he sent her a glowering stare.

"Yes, I will," he replied stiffly, holding his arms out for the baby. "Oh, Merlin."

Ginny laughed. "He's sleeping, you've got it easy."

When she made sure that Draco had her son securely in his arms, Ginny hopped onto the second quad bike and froze. "What do I do now?"

Hermione went over to her and quickly went through the controls once more. When she made Ginny repeat them back to her several times, she was satisfied and went back to her own bike and kicked the engine into start. "Ready?"

Ginny waved her hand so Draco would step further away – as to not wake up James – before she followed Hermione's instructions and started the quad bike. She jumped a little, took a deep breath and flicked her red hair out of her face before twisting the throttle. The bike leapt forward and she screamed before releasing some nervous laughter. "Okay, come on, Ginny, where's that Gryffindor courage?"

Draco watched with amusement as Ginny eventually got the hang of the machine and the two girls drove off over the grounds. James squirmed a little in his arms and he panicked when the child opened his eyes sleepily. "No, go to back to sleep, Potter, go to sleep."

The infant had another idea, however, and didn't want to close his eyes again despite being incredibly tired. So, he decided to do the next best thing – wriggle around and then open his mouth to cry.

Draco gritted his teeth and tried to do what he'd seen Ginny and Harry do that afternoon at lunch. It wasn't working and James continued to wail, his cries getting louder and louder until they drowned out the low rumble of the quad bikes completely. Grimacing, Draco attempted to hum a lullaby but to no avail. The mini Potter was having none of it.

It was only when Draco's ears seemed to have gone deaf when Ginny and Hermione both returned, faces pink and glowing. "Finished?" He asked loudly over James's cries.

"What did you do?" Ginny exclaimed, rushing forward to take her baby.

"What makes you think it was all me?" Draco asked grumpily, moving away from James and rubbing his ears. "He woke up and wouldn't go back to sleep. I had no idea what to do – it was all him!"

Ginny sighed and tried to calm her child. "Look, I don't think he's going to sleep anytime soon without his cot. I'll have to head back, thanks Hermione, Malfoy."

"I'll see you out," Hermione offered and the three of them headed back to the house leaving Draco with two quad bikes still running.

He huffed and rode them back into the garage before finally gathering his thoughts, reaching into his pocket to fiddle with a black velvet box.

The following evening, Draco and Hermione were relaxing on their bed when there was a tap at the window.

"Do you think you could get that?" Draco asked her, eyes wide and innocent.

She sent him a withering look. "And what's wrong with your legs?"

"They ache _so_ badly from my intense work out I did earlier."

"What work out?" She asked, eyes narrowing.

"My work out which I do every other day?" Draco said, rolling his eyes.

"No you don't, you don't do any work outs, Draco, stop lying." Hermione poked him in the shoulder.

He laughed. "Fine, you're right." He sighed dramatically. "You just foiled my real reason."

"And what's that?" Hermione asked, smirking as she leant over him, hair tickling his cheek.

"I wanted to watch your bum." Draco whispered, leaning up to kiss her. "You have a rather nice backside, did you know?"

She laughed and shook her head. "You're unbelievable, you are. Fine, just so you can see my bum, I'll get the owl."

"Good girl," Draco grinned and felt a tightening in his chest as she slipped off the bed and walked seductively over to the window. She sent him a cheeky look over her shoulder and he wiggled his eyebrows, sitting up in the bed. _Breathe_.

Hermione opened the window and the bird fluttered in, perching itself inside on the windowsill. Draco watched her as her face turned into one of confusion.

"There's no letter?" She frowned.

Draco got up from the bed and padded over, scratching his head. "Are you sure? It's not a rogue owl is it?"

"No, I don't think – oh, here we are, there's a little pouch." Her fingers worked at the little leather case attached to the bird's foot to untie it. Draco swallowed nervously. His mouth was dry.

It seemed like an age to him before Hermione finally opened the pouch. She tipped the contents out onto her hand before gasping aloud.

"Draco?" She whispered, her eyes transfixed on a silver ring with a diamond set on top. It glinted in the evening summer light as Draco gently took it from her hand and knelt on one knee. _This is it_, he thought to himself, stomach constricting with the nerves from this one question he was about to ask.

"Hermione Jean Granger, would you do me the honour of becoming my wife?"

With the biggest smile Draco had ever seen cross Hermione's face, she responded with the answer he desperately wanted to hear: "Yes."


End file.
